... "I am happy. Katie is happy, There is peace among us here, like 'the
clear downshining after rain.' But I thirst and long already for the
expiration of my seven years' exile, wholesome as I believe it to be. My
only wish is to return and assist in the Emancipation of Labour, and give
my small aid in that fraternal union of all classes which I hear is surely,
though slowly, spreading in my mother-land.
"And now for my poor friend, whose papers, according to my promise to him,
I transmit to you. On the very night on which he seems to have concluded
them--an hour after we had made the land--we found him in his cabin, dead,
his head resting on the table as peacefully as if he had slumbered. On a
sheet of paper by him were written the following verses; the ink was not
yet dry:
"'MY LAST WORDS.
"'I.
"'Weep, weep, weep, and weep,
For pauper, dolt, and slave;
Hark! from wasted moor and fen,
Feverous alley, workhouse den,
Swells the wail of Englishmen:
"Work! or the grave!"
"'II.
"'Down, down, down, and down,
With idler, knave, and tyrant;
Why for sluggards stint and moil
He that will not live by toil
Has no right on English soil;
God's word's our warrant!
"'III.
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