Tasso's Dungeon

How might the goaded sufferer in this cell,
With nothing upon which his eyes might fall,
Except this vacant court, that dreary wall, —
How might he live? I asked. Here doomed to dwell,
I marvel how at all he could repel
Thoughts which to madness and despair would call.
Enter this vault: the bare sight will appall
Thy spirit, even as mine within me fell,
Until I learned that wall not always there
Had stood, — 't was something that this iron grate
Had once looked out upon a garden fair.
There must have been then here, to calm his brain,
Green leaves, and flowers, and sunshine; —and a weight
Fell from me, and my heart revived again.