The retribution slow,
Against the stout heart and bold hand,
That dared defy thy high command.
Even though a parent feel the woe,
Prepare, prepare the finished blow.
STROPHE V.
Chorus.
Mine be soon to lift the strain,
O’er the treacherous slayer slain,
To shout with bitter exultation,
O’er the murtherous wife’s prostration!