There shall stand the fated boy.
With a grief too loud to smother,
With a throbbing, burning head—
There shall groan some desperate mother,
Nor deny the stolen bread!
There the veteran, a poor debtor,
Marked with honorable scars,
List’ning to some clanking fetter,
Shall gaze idly through the bars:—
Shall gaze idly, not demurring,