...ye can tell. That which slavery is, too well
For its very name has grown. To an echo of your own.
Tis to work, and have such pay. As just keeps life from day to day.
In your limbs, as in a cell. For the tyrants' use to dwell.
Tis to be a slave in soul. And to hold no strong control.
Over your own wills, but be. All that others make of ye.

Percy Bysshe Shelley