Aye, let us weep—weep for the guilt and crime—
The ingrate sense—the coward guilt and crime!
Dissolve in tears and woe
The darkling horrors of this monstrous time!
His name breathe not,
His thrice-accursèd name, whose brutal hand—
Whose foul, polluted heart and brutal hand
A demon’s purpose wrought,
And whelmed in grief our glad, rejoicing land.
No fame be his!