---

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - Mitigations
Work rating: Low

My prison has its pleasures. Every day
 At breakfast--time, spare meal of milk and bread,
 Sparrows come trooping in familiar way
 With head aside beseeching to be fed.
 A spider too for me has spun her thread
 Across the prison rules, and a brave mouse
 Watches in sympathy the warders` tread,
 These two my fellow--prisoners in the house.

 But about dusk in the rooms opposite
 I see lamps lighted, and upon the blind
 A shadow passes all the evening through.
 It is the gaoler`s daughter fair and kind
 And full of pity (so I image it)
 Till the stars rise, and night begins anew.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.