Dreaming sweetly on my breast.
Flashed were they through weary head
When ’neath haughty blows of fists, red
Flushed the cheek with blood compressed.
Yea of blood and tears and gall,
When times were bad, they were born;
When I saw the tyrant install
Tortures on my brothers forlorn;
When I gnashed my teeth in vain
As the brutal beadle in disdain