The Archibald Baxter Memorial Trust 

Their names are writ in every Clink -
This small but steadfast band
Who for themselves have dared to think
And firmly take their stand.
The tyrants’ boast to crush and kill
And this proud spirit bend
Does only strengthen each man’s will
To conquer in the end
Although to-night in prison cell
‘Neath Mammon’s lock and key.
It only holds the earthly shell –
The mind and soul are free.
The Brotherhood of Man’s their aim;
So come whate’er betide
They’ll bear it all in Freedom’s name.
Their conscience is their guide,
Though each should fill a Martyr’s grave,
What grander end could be?
Their death will only help to pave
The road to Liberty