``Oh, well I love to see thee
So bravely look, my only boy--
But thy courage--can it free thee?
Alas, alas, it may destroy!
'Twas in your father's eye, boy,
The day they dragg'd him by our door,
A shameful d**h to die, boy,
Ere thee to him thy mother bore!''
``They shall not drag me, mother,
Like him, unto the gallows tree--
They shall not tear another,
The last and only one, from thee;
And yet shall they restore me
The rights they've robb'd from him and me,
Or else--while Heaven is o'er me--
A worse foe than my father see!''
``What mean you now, my own boy?
Your d**h upon their fighting field
Would leave me all as lone, boy,
As any which their hate can yield!''
``Mother, I do not fear them,
Even should they dare the worst they could;
Yet never will I cheer them
A challenge to their strife of blood!''
``And how then win your own, boy,
Though pure and high your quarrel stands,
From their stern hearts of stone, boy,
And from their griping iron hands?''
``A battle still must win it!
A battle, mother, they shall rue,
Although no blood flow in it,
To make the widow childless too!''