Those whom the thought of fathers slain,
Of roofless children doomed to die
Starved, maddens by its memory—
These poets pardon not, nor deign
To lift a lyric sigh.
A sigh of pity for such deeds
As hapless Ireland harass? Nay,
Justice shall not make straight our way
Till ruthless Law hath crushed like weeds
All who dare disobey.