To lie!—perchance a change; aye, there’s the rub,
For in that change the angry Rebs may come,
When from these lands the Feds are driven out,
Must give us pause; there’s the respect
That makes a man of honor hesitate.
But who would bear at the dead hour of night
To be ’roused from his sleep—dragged out of bed—
To be locked up in jail—to hold his tongue—
Before a mock tribunal to be tried,
And then condemned for deeds he knew not of,