By possession of more than a burial plot,
By pay for our toil, and by balm for our troubles,
You ban all such prospects as "radiant bubbles."
Declare "under-currents of plunder" run through
All plans for our aid save those favoured by you,
Attached to the soil! Ah! how many approve
That attachment, when founded on labour and love!
But about "confiscation" they chatter and fuss
At all talk of attaching the soil to poor us!