The final account of your deeds may be.
Eight millions starved! Yet the Jubilee—
Why, never such glory since Solomon’s throne.
The world was glad that it came to see,
And the Saxon said, “Lo, the world is mine own!”
But mark you! That glittering great Crown stone,
And the thousand stars that dimmed in this sun,
Were stolen, were stolen every one,
Were stolen from those who starved and died!