[First published in the Letters , 1901.]

The dead have been awaken'd—shall I sleep?
 The World's at war with tyrants—shall I crouch?
The harvest's ripe—and shall I pause to reap?
 I slumber not; the thorn is in my Couch;
Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear,
 Its echo in my heart—
   June 19, 1823.