<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117543" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Sold</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll to the dance! what boots it thus,<br>To brood o'er ills I cannot quell?<br>Amid the revel shout of mirth,<br>My bitter laugh shall mingle well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've toil'd beside my mates to-day,<br>To-night we'll join in seeming glee;<br>But when we part, with morning's light,<br>For aye, that parting glance will be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not go!—this fire within,<br>Would choke me with its smother'd flames!<br>How could I tell the dear ones there,<br>Of that detested tyrant's claims?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I could endure the fetter's weight,<br>That I have borne with them so long,—<br>But not to wear a stranger's chain,<br>And crouch beneath a stranger's thong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet this must be my morrow's fate!<br>To part with all that gave my doom,<br>Dark as it was and desolate,<br>A ray of light amidst its gloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To bear the scourge, to wear the chain,<br>To toil with wearied heart and limb,<br>Till death should end my lengthen'd pain,<br>Or worn old age my senses dim:—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This have I borne, and look'd to bear,<br>All bitter as such lot must be;<br>But drearier still my life must wear,<br>Beneath a stranger's tyranny.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! 't would be a happier lot,<br>If, ere to-morrow's doom shall come,<br>My woes and wrongs were all forgot,<br>Amid the darkness of the tomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler">Elizabeth Margaret Chandler</a> from <i>Poetical Works</i><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117543" data-title="The Sold de Elizabeth Margaret Chandler" data-description="I'll to the dance! what boots it thus,/To brood o'er ills I cannot quell?/Amid the revel shout of mirth,/My bitter laugh shall mingle well./I've toil'd beside my mates to-day,/To-night we'll join in seeming glee;/But when we part, with morning's l..."></div> </div> </div>

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