5.
‘Thou hast regret and sorrows?’ From our birth,
We have them all. If dusky cells should hold
Each suffering sheep of this unhappy fold,
We were to make a cloister of our earth.
Our name is fellow-sufferers till our death.
Those walls bestow no comfort; do not feign!
The token of thine order sooth's no pain;
It decks thy heart, but still 't will break beneath.