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In reply to the discussion: This message was self-deleted by its author [View all]ananda
(28,758 posts)From The Mask of Anarcy
What art thou, Freedom? O! could slaves
Answer from their living graves
This demandtyrants would flee
Like a dreams imagery :
Thou are not, as impostors say,
A shadow soon to pass away,
A superstition, and a name
Echoing from the cave of Fame.
For the labourer thou art bread,
And a comely table spread
From his daily labour come
In a neat and happy home.
Thou art clothes, and fire, and food
For the trampled multitude
Noin countries that are free
Such starvation cannot be
As in England now we see.
To the rich thou art a check,
When his foot is on the neck
Of his victim, thou dost make
That he treads upon a snake.
Thou art Justiceneer for gold
May thy righteous laws be sold
As laws are in Englandthou
Shieldst alike both high and low.
Thou art WisdomFreemen never
Dream that God will damn for ever
All who think those things untrue
Of which Priests make such ado.
Thou art Peacenever by thee
Would blood and treasure wasted be
As tyrants wasted them, when all
Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.