text:  Be silent wretches!--spare the grave! They dress'd the cold clay in mimic state And the peasants came crowding round; And many a vow of revenge and hate In that hour on their souls was bound-- Oh! ruthless creed that never forgave! Be silent wretches!--spare the grave! They bore him along by the village road And they yell'd at the village spire! And they laid him at rest in his long abode In a storm of revenge and ire; And round him their furious banners wave