Ye silent statesmen, fully armed with power
To save or slaughter, spare the captive’s life!
The wild fanatic of a hapless strife,
Still fresh in manhood’s summer-scented flower;
Whose sense of wrong, discretion did devour,
And, breaking from his children and his wife,
Feared not the hazard of the fatal hour,
The ineffectual struggle, ever rife
With death and dungeons when rebellion fails.
O, let humanity for mercy plead!
Risk not the victor’s vengeance on the scales
Of Justice, lest our grieved November gales
Waft on to future years the ruthless deed,
And keen remorse to cooler thoughts succeed.