Behind The Bars

I am a pilgrim far from home,         A wanderer like Mars,     And thought my wanderings ne'er should come,         So fixed behind the bars!     I left my sunny Southern home         Beneath the silver stars;     A northward path began to roam,         Not seeking prison bars.     I sought a higher, holier life,         Which never virtue mars;     But Fate had spun a net of strife         For me behind the bars!     My mother's lowly thatched-roofed cot         My nobler senses jars;     And so I seek to aid her lot,         But not behind the bars!     'Tis said, forsooth, the poet learns         Through sufferings and wars     To sing the song which deepest burns         Behind the prison bars!     Thus I resign myself to Fate,         Regardless of her scars;     For soon she'll open wide the gate         For me behind the bars.     I plead to you, my fellow man,         For all who wear the tars;     To lend what little help you can         To us behind the bars.     O God, I breathe my prayer to Thee,         Who never sinner bars:     Set each immortal spirit free         Behind these prison bars!