The utmost barrier, and the sweet, fresh air So long witheld, fill'd his collapsing lungs, He shouted rapturously, "_Am I alive?_ Or have I burst the gates of death, and found A second Eden?" The unwonted sound Of his own voice, freed from the drear constraint Of prison durance, swell'd his thrilling frame With strong and joyous impulse, for 'tis said Long stifled utterance is torturing pain To organs train'd to speech. With one high leap Like an enfranchis'd steed he seem'd to throw His spirit-chain behind him. Then he took The Pastor's offer'd arm, who led the way To his own house, and bade him bathe and change His prison garments, and repose that night Under his roof. With thoughtful care he spoke To his own household, kindly to receive The erring one,--"for we are sinners all, And not upon our merits may depend But on abounding grace." So when the hour Of cheerful supper summon'd to the board, He came among them as a comely guest, Refresh'd and welcome. Pleasant converse cheer'd The hospitable meal, and then withdrawn Into the quiet study 'mid the books, That saintly good man with the hoary hair Silvering his temples like a graceful crown, Strove by wise counsel to encourage him For life's important duties, But he deem'd A ban was on him, and a mark which all Would scan who met him. "He whose lot hath been With fiends in Pandemonium, must expect Hate and contempt from men." "Not so, my son! Wipe off the past, as a forgotten thing, Propitiate virtue, by forsaking vice. The good will aid you, and a brighter day Doubtless awaits you. Be not too much moved By man's applause or blame, but ever look Unto a higher Judge." Then there arose A voice of supplication, so intense To the Great Pardoner, that He would send His spirit down to change and purify The erring heart, that those persuasive tones, So humble, yet so strangely eloquent Breathed o'er the unhappy one like soothing spell Of magic influence, and he slept that night With peace and hope, long exiled from his couch. * * * * *