And they have ta’en and flung him down
Upon an iron bed,
And underneath, with cruel hand,
Have heaped the ashes red.
They’ve spread him out, and pressed him down,
And turned him o’er and o’er,
They’ve dried him up, until he curled,
And writhed in suffering sore.
In vain he twisted and he turned,
In vain he cried for grace;