Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/103
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Once more to daily toil, once more to wearThe weeds of infamy, from every joyThe heart can feel excluded, I ariseWorn out and faint with unremitting woe;And once again with wearied steps I traceThe hollow-sounding shore. The swelling wavesGleam to the morning sun, and dazzle o'erWith many a splendid hue the breezy strand.Oh there was once a time when Elinor
- ↑ The female convicts are frequently employed in collecting shells for the purpose of making lime.