Alas! my poor country, your Emmet’s no more!
“Brave was his spirit, yet mild as the Brahmin,
His heart bled in anguish at the wrongs of the poor;
To relieve their hard sufferings he braved every danger,
The vengeance of tyrants undauntedly bore.
E’en before him the proud titled villains in power,
Were seen, though in ermine, in terror to cower,
But, alas! he is gone—he has fallen a young flower,
They have murdered my Emmet—my Emmet’s no more!”