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Poem: “In The Prison Pen” by Herman Melville

Poems From Battle Pieces

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American LiteratureAmerican PoetryHerman MelvillePoems by Herman MelvillePoems From Battle Pieces
< < < Sheridan At Cedar Creek
The College Colonel > > >


In The Prison Pen


1864

Listless he eyes the palisades
    And sentries in the glare;
’Tis barren as a pelican-beach
    But his world is ended there.

Nothing to do; and vacant hands
    Bring on the idiot-pain;
He tries to think—to recollect,
    But the blur is on his brain.

Around him swarm the plaining ghosts
    Like those on Virgil’s shore—
A wilderness of faces dim,
    And pale ones gashed and hoar.

A smiting sun. No shed, no tree;
    He totters to his lair—
A den that sick hands dug in earth
    Ere famine wasted there,

Or, dropping in his place, he swoons,
    Walled in by throngs that press,
Till forth from the throngs they bear him dead—
    Dead in his meagreness.


< < < Sheridan At Cedar Creek
The College Colonel > > >

American LiteratureAmerican PoetryHerman MelvillePoems by Herman MelvillePoems From Battle Pieces


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