Punishment

Mourner, that dost deserve thy mournfulness, Call thyself punished, call the earth thy hell; Say, 'God is angry, and I earned it well- I would not have him smile on wickedness:' Say this, and straightway all thy grief grows less:- 'God rules at least, I find as prophets tell, And proves it in this prison!'-then thy cell Smiles with an unsuspected loveliness. -'A prison-and yet from door and window-bar I catch a thousand breaths of his sweet air! Even to me his days and nights are fair! He shows me many a flower and many a star! And though I mourn and he is very far, He does not kill the hope that reaches there!'