Classic Poem

Convention shut him close inside
A narrow, four-walled cell;
Civilization held the key,
And he was guarded well.

He never tried to break lock-step,
He kept a steady pace;
No signs of wrath or mutiny
Were ever on his face.

He set a good example, too,
Before imprisoned men,
And so one day the pardoning board
Said, “Let him out again.”

And now he is as free as clouds
That drift above my head;
No regulations bind his soul—
But men say, “He is dead!”