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Chains may be riven, then let the captive spring Rejoicing to the light!—But he, for whom Freedom and life may but be worn with shame, Hath nought to do, save fearlessly to fix His stedfast look on the majestic heavens, And proudly die!

Gonzalez, who must die?

They on whose lives a fearful price is set, But to be paid by treason!—Is 't enough? Or must I yet seek words?

That look saith more! Thou canst not mean——

I do! why dwells there not Power in a glance to speak it?—They must die! They—must their names be told—Our sons must die Unless I yield the city!

Oh! look up! My mother, sink not thus!—Until the grave Shut from our sight its victims, there is hope.