Owen Suffolk - For Frank Gardiner
It is not in a prison drear <br />Where all around is gloom, <br />That I would end life's wild career, <br />And sink into the tomb, <br />For though my spirit's ever bold <br />Each tyrant to defy; <br />Still, still, within a dungeon cold, <br />I could not calmly die. <br /> <br />It is not that my cheek would pale <br />Within a lonely cell; <br />It is not that my heart would quail <br />To bid this world farewell. <br />For if oppressed by tyrant foe <br />I'd freely be the first <br />To give my life, and strike the blow <br />To lay him in the dust. <br /> <br />But place me in a forest glen <br />Unfettered, wild and free, <br />Wtih fifty tried and chosen men <br />A bandit chief to be. <br />'Tis there, when fighting with my foes <br />Amid my trusty band, <br />I'd freely leave this world of woes, <br />And die with sword in hand.<br /><br />Owen Suffolk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-frank-gardiner/
