Ah, think how one compelled for life to abide
Locked in a dungeon needs must eat the heart
Out of his own humanity, and part
With every hope that mutual cares provide;
And, should a less unnatural doom confide
In life-long exile on a savage coast,
Soon the relapsing penitent may boast
Of yet more heinous guilt, with fiercer pride.
Hence thoughtful Mercy, Mercy sage and pure,
Sanctions the forfeiture that Law demands,
Leaving the final issue in ‘His’ hands
Whose goodness knows no change, whose love is sure,
Who sees, foresees; who cannot judge amiss,
And wafts at will the contrite soul to bliss.
Read all of William Wordsworth's poems · About William Wordsworth
More by William Wordsworth
- Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 - XII - See The Condemned Alone Within His Cell
- Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 - XIII - Conclusion - Yes, Though He Well May Tremble At The Sound
- Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 - XIV - Apology
- Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 – II - Tenderly Do We Feel By Nature's Law
- Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 – III - The Roman Consul Doomed His Sons To Die
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