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74. “Let a vast assembly be,

And with great solemnity
Declare with ne'er-said words that ye

Are, as God has made ye, free!
75. “Be your strong and simple words

Keen'to wound as sharpened swords,
And wide as targes let them be,

With their shade to cover ye. 76. “Let the tyrants pour around

With a quick and startling sound,
Like the loosening of a sea,

Troops of armed emblazonry.
77. “Let the charged artillery drive,

Till the dead air seems alive
With the clash of clanging wheels,

And the tramp of horses' heels. 78. “Let the fixed bayonet

Gleam with sharp desire to wet
Its bright point in English blood,

Looking keen as one for food. 79. Let the horsemen's scimitars

Wheel and flash, like sphereless stars
Thirsting to eclipse their burning

In a sea of death and mourning. 80. “Stand ye calm and resolute,

Like a forest close and mute,
With folded arms, and looks which are

Weapons of an unvanquished war. 81. “And let Panic, who outspeeds

The career of armed steeds,
Pass, a disregarded shade,

Through your phalanx undismayed. 82. “Let the laws of your own land,

Good or ill, between ye stand,
Hand to hand, and foot to foot,

Arbiters of the dispute :
83. “The old laws of England—they

Whose reverend heads with age are grey,
Children of a wiser day ;
And whose solemn voice mi be

Thine own echo-Liberty !
84. “On those who first should violate

Such sacred heralds in their state
Rest the blood that must ensue;
And it will not rest on you.

63. “Oh! turn their wealth to arms, and make

War, for thy beloved sake,
On wealth and war and fraud ; whence they

Drew the power which is their prey. 64. “Science, and poetry, and thought,

Are thy lamps; they make the lot
Of the dwellers in a cot

Such they curse their Maker not. 65. "Spirit, patience, gentleness,

All that can adorn and bless,
Art thou. Let deeds, not words, express

Thine exceeding loveliness. 66. “Let a great assembly be

Of the fearless and the free
On some spot of English ground

Where the plains stretch wide around. 67. “Let the blue sky overhead,

The green earth on which ye tread,
All that must eternal be,

Witness the solemnity.
68. “From the corners uttermost

Of the bounds of English coast;
From every hut, village, and town,
Where those who live and suffer moan

For others' misery or their own;
69. “From the workhouse and the prison

Where, pale as corpses newly risen,
Women, children, young and old,

Groan for pain, and weep for cold ; 70. “From the haunts of daily life

Where is waged the daily strife
With common wants and common cares

Which sow the human heart with tares; 71. “Lastly, from the palaces

Where the murmur of distress
Echoes like the distant sound

Of a wind alive around72. “Those prison-halls of wealth and fashion,

Where some few feel such compassion,
For those who groan and toil and wail,

As must make their brethren pale ;73. “Ye who suffer woes untold

Or to feel or to behold
Your lost country bought and sold
With a price of blood and gold !

74. “Let a vast assembly be,

And with great solemnity
Declare with ne'er-said words that ye

Are, as God has made ye, free!
75. “Be your strong and simple words

Keen to wound as sharpened swords,
And wide as targes let them be,

With their shade to cover ye. 76. “Let the tyrants pour around

With a quick and startling sound,
Like the loosening of a sea,

Troops of armed emblazonry.
77. "Let the charged artillery drive,

Till the dead air seems alive
With the clash of clanging wheels,

And the tramp of horses' heels. 78. “Let the fixed bayonet

Gleam with sharp desire to wet
Its bright point in English blood,

Looking keen as one for food. 79. Let the horsemen's scimitars

Wheel and flash, like sphereless stars
Thirsting to eclipse their burning

In a sea of death and mourning. 80. “Stand ye calm and resolute,

Like a forest close and mute,
With folded arms, and looks which are

Weapons of an unvanquished war. 31. “And let Panic, who outspeeds

The career of armed steeds,
Pass, a disregarded shade,

Through your phalanx undismayed. 82. “Let the laws of your own land,

Good or ill, between ye stand,
Hand to hand, and foot to foot,

Arbiters of the dispute :-
83. “The old laws of England--they

Whose reverend heads with age are grey,
Children of a wiser day ;
And whose solemn voice must be

Thine own echo-Liberty!
84. “On those who first should violate

Such sacred heralds in their state
Rest the blood that must ensue ;
And it will not rest on you.

85. “And, if then the tyrants dare,

Let them ride among you there,
Slash and stab and maim and hew :

What they like, that let them do.
86. “With folded arms and steady eyes,

And little fear and less surprise,
Look upon them as they slay,

Till their rage has died away.
87. “Then they will return with shame,

To the place from which they came,
And the blood thus shed will speak

In hot blushes on their cheek.
88. “Every woman in the land

Will point at them as they stand-
They will hardly dare to greet

Their acquaintance in the street :
89. “And the bold true warriors

Who have hugged danger in the wars
Will turn to those who would be free,

Ashamed of such base company:
90. “And that slaughter to the nation

Shall steam up like inspiration,
Eloquent, oracular,

A voicano heard afar :
91. “And these words shall then become

Like Oppression's thundered doom,
Ringing through each heart and brain,

Heard again-again-again!
92. “Rise, like lions after slumber,

In unvanquishable number!
Shake your chains to earth, like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you!
Ye are many—they are few!"

LINES
WRITTEN DURING THE CASTLEREAGH ADMINISTRATION.

1. CORPSES are cold in the tomb;
Stones on the pavement are dumb;

Abortions are dead in the womb,
And their mothers look pale—like the white shore

Of Albion, free no more.
2. Her sons are as stones in the way

They are masses of senseless clay

They are trodden, and move not away;
The abortion with which she travaileth

Is Liberty, smitten to death.

3. Then trample and dance, thou oppressor,

For thy victim is no redressor!

Thou art sole lord and possessor Of her corpses and clods and abortions—they pave

Thy path to the grave. 4. Hear'st thou the festival din

Of Death and Destruction and Sin

And Wealth crying “ Havoc!" within ? 'Tis the bacchanal triumph which makes Truth dumb,

Thine epithalamium. 5. Ay, marry thy ghastly Wife!

Let Fear and Disquiet and Strife

Spread thy couch in the chamber of Life! Marry Ruin, thou tyrant! and God be thy guide

To the bed of the bride!

SONG-TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND.
1. MEN of England, wherefore plough

For the lords who lay ye low?
Wherefore weave with toil and care

The rich robes your tyrants wear?
2. Wherefore feed and clothe and save,

From the cradle to the grave,
Those ungrateful drones who would.

Drain your sweat-nay, drink your blood ? 3. Wherefore, Bees of England, forge

Many a weapon, chain, and scourge,
That these stingless drones may spoil

The forced produce of your toil ? 4. Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,

Shelter, food, love's gentle balm ?
Or what is it ye buy so dear

With your pain and with your fear? 5. The seed ye sow another reaps ;

The wealth ye find another keeps ;
The robes ye weave another wears;

The arms ye forge another bears.
6. Sow seed, -but let no tyrant reap;

Find wealth,-let no impostor heap;
Weave robes,-let not the idle wear;

Forge arms, in your defence to bear.
7. Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells ;

In halls ye deck another dwells.
Why shake the chains ye wrought? Ye see
The steel ye tempered glance on ye.

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