That says, 'Work slave, or starve! That is your choice!'
And have you never seen the aged and grey,
Panting along its summons to obey;
Whilst little children run scarce half awake,
Sobbing as tho' ther little hearts would break
And stalwart men, with features stern and grave,
That seem to say, "I scorn to be a slave."
He is no slave;—he is a Briton free,
A noble sample of humanity.
This may be liberty,—the ass, the horse,