'The Bohemian Prince, all sad and alone,
Not fit for a Prince, Reading Gaol was his home,
Hard labour and toil, your sentence you earned it,
A painting, a portrait, the importance of earnest

A century later, your pardon is granted,
And your freedom endures in the minds you enchanted,
Your life and your work still thrive on the stage,
For it is personalities- not principles that move the age'