Why was I born if this ends all,
All that I'll ever be;
To feel a spirit that's divine,
No chance to let it free.

Unfortunate seems now my port,
Drifting on poverty's sea;
The chains of need have bound me fast,
Oh! would that I was free.

I'm struggling daily for the shore,
The sea is vast and wide;
And when I stop to sing my lays,
I'm threatened by the tide.

But if these rugged lays I've sung,
Should cause some heart to move,
And bring to me freedom
How could I then but love!

Accept these lays to you I bring,
A token of my art;
Jangling though they seem to be
Remember 'tis a start.