But the people have grown stronger:
The iron collar's off their necks—
Thank God they're dogs no longer!
The "good old times" are past, my boys,
The "good old times" are past,
When the skies were bloody with martyr fires,
And daughters lighted their fathers' pyres,
In the "good times" past.
Then, mothers at the stake gave birth;
And, to make their sufferings stronger,