How that man has made firm the fickle King --Hampden, I will speak out!--in aught he feared To venture on before; taught Tyranny Her dismal trade, the use of all her tools, To ply the scourge yet screw the gag so close That strangled agony bleeds mute to death: --How he turns Ireland to a private stage For training infant villanies, new ways Of wringing treasure out of tears and gore, Unheard oppressions nourished in the dark To try how much Man's nature can endure --If he dies under it, what harm? if not . . .