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Poem by Robert Anderson Lines, Written in Carrickfergus Jail Many a tyrant, many a slave, Pander, prostitute, and knave, Coward base, and patriot brave, Come trembling here; Genius, idiot, dunce, and wit, Men for this wild world unfit, Sighing, thinking, starving sit And drop a tear. Here, perchance, some noble mind, Amidst the dregs of human kind, Roams states ideal, unconfin'd, In misery-- Ev'n monarchs of our earthly ball, With princes, prelates at their call, What are they?--Wretched pris'ners all! Whom death sets free! Robert Anderson Robert Anderson's other poems:
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