I am come of the seed of the people. The people that sorrow. Who have no treasure but hope, no riches laid up, but a memory of an ancient glory. My mother bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born. I am of the blood of serfs. The children with whom I have played, the men and women with whom I have eaten, have had masters over them. Have been under the lash of masters, and though gentle, have served churls. I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly. I am bone of their bone.