233
The Lamp burns sure—within
Tho' Serfs—supply the Oil
It matters not the busy Wick
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave—forgets—to fill
The Lamp—burns golden—on
Unconscious that the oil is out
As that the Slave—is gone
The Lamp burns sure—within
Tho' Serfs—supply the Oil
It matters not the busy Wick
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave—forgets—to fill
The Lamp—burns golden—on
Unconscious that the oil is out
As that the Slave—is gone
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