All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide cloak he drew.
(Imagine my surprise to find THE MASK)

And the little children, who
Round his feet played to and fro,
Thinking every tear a gem,
Had their brains knocked out by them.

(OF ANARCHY, not dedicated to Mary)
For with pomp to meet him came,
Clothed in arms like blood and flame,
The hired murderers, who did sing,
"Thou art God, and Law, and King.

(perhaps THE very WITCH OF ATLAS)
And Anarchy, the Skeleton,
Bowed and grinned to every one,
As well as if his education
Had cost ten millions to the nation.

(singled out in dubious dedication)

'What is Freedom?---ye can tell
That which slavery is, too well---
For its very name has grown
To an echo of your own.

'Then it is to feel revenge
Fiercely thirsting to exchange
Blood for blood---and wrong for wrong---
Do not thus when ye are strong.

'Thou art Wisdom---Freemen never
Dream that God will damn for ever
All who think these things untrue
Of which Priests make such ado.
(a moment of reverent silence, please)

'Science, Poetry, and Thought
Are thy lamps; they make the lot
Of the dwellers in a cot
So serene, they curse it not.

'Let the blue sky overhead,
The green earth on which ye tread,
All that must eternal be
Witness the solemnity.

'Stand ye calm and resolute,
Like a forest close and mute,
With folded arms and looks which are
Weapons of unvanquished war.

'With folded arms and steady eyes,
And little fear, and less surprise,
Look upon them as they slay
Till their rage has died away.
(Imagine my delight to find a dead poet)

'And these words shall then become
Like Oppression's thundered doom
Ringing through each heart and brain,
Heard again---again---again

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