“He bade them to shade e’en his name in the gloom,
Till the morning of freedom should shine on his tomb,
‘When the flag of my country at liberty flies,
Then—then let my name and my monument rise.’
You see they obey’d him—’tis thirty-three years,
And they still come to moisten his grave with their tears.
“He was young like yourself, and aspir’d to o’erthrow
The tyrants who fill’d his lov’d island with woe;
They crush’d his bold spirit—this earth was confin’d,
Too scant for the range of his luminous mind.”