Martha Lavinia Hoffman
Think'st thou the criminal in some dark retreat
To which from lowering justice he hath flown,
While die the echoes of pursuing feet,
Is left in peace, alone?
Think'st thou that undisturbed he stops to rest,
Forgetting the dark crime that lies behind?
Think'st thou that naught but triumph fills his breast,
That no iron bands his sense of freedom bind?
Not so; for though within a lone abode