But I, the thrice-imprisoned, try to troll Strains of the song of night, which fill with dole My blindness, my confinement, and my flesh— The sordid habitation of my soul.
CXX
125
But I, the thrice-imprisoned, try to troll Strains of the song of night, which fill with dole My blindness, my confinement, and my flesh— The sordid habitation of my soul.