The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley read by Zane C Weber

The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

    1.

    As I lay asleep in Italy

    There came a voice from over the Sea,

    And with great power it forth led me

    To walk in the visions of Poesy.

    2.

    I met Murder on the way -

    He had a mask like Castlereagh -

    Very smooth he looked, yet grim;

    Seven blood-hounds followed him:

    3.

    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.

    4.

    Next came Fraud, and he had on,

    Like Eldon, an ermined gown;

    His big tears, for he wept well,

    Turned to mill-stones as they fell.

    5.

    And the little children, who

    Round his feet played to and fro,

    Thinking every tear a gem,

    Had their brains knocked out by them.

    6.

    Clothed with the Bible, as with light,

    And the shadows of the night,

    Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy

    On a crocodile rode by.

    7.

    And many more Destructions played

    In this ghastly masquerade,

    All disguised, even to the eyes,

    Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

    8.

    Last came Anarchy: he rode

    On a white horse, splashed with blood;

    He was pale even to the lips,

    Like Death in the Apocalypse.

    9.

    And he wore a kingly crown;

    And in his grasp a sceptre shone;

    On his brow this mark I saw -

    'I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!'

    10.

    With a pace stately and fast,

    Over English land he passed,

    Trampling to a mire of blood

    The adoring multitude.

    11.

    And a mighty troop around,

    With their trampling shook the ground,

    Waving each a bloody sword,

    For the service of their Lord.

    12.

    And with glorious triumph, they

    Rode through England proud and gay,

    Drunk as with intoxication

    Of the wine of desolation.

    13.

    O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,

    Passed the Pageant swift and free,

    Tearing up, and trampling down;

    Till they came to London town.

    14.

    And each dweller, panic-stricken,

    Felt his heart with terror sicken

    Hearing the tempestuous cry

    Of the triumph of Anarchy.

    15.

    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.

    16.

    'We have waited, weak and lone

    For thy coming, Mighty One!

    Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,

    Give us glory, and blood, and gold.'

    17.

    Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,

    To the earth their pale brows bowed;

    Like a bad prayer not over loud,

    Whispering - 'Thou art Law and God.' -

    18.

    Then all cried with one accord,

    'Thou art King, and God, and Lord;

    Anarchy, to thee we bow,

    Be thy name made holy now!'

    19.

    And Anarchy, the Skeleton,

    Bowed and grinned to every one,

    As well as if his education

    Had cost ten millions to the nation.

    20.

    For he knew the Palaces

    Of our Kings were rightly his;

    His the sceptre, crown, and globe,

    And the gold-inwoven robe.

    21.

    So he sent his slaves before

    To seize upon the Bank and Tower,

    And was proceeding with intent

    To meet his pensioned Parliament

    22.

    When one fled past, a maniac maid,

    And her name was Hope, she said:

    But she looked more like Despair,

    And she cried out in the air:

    23.

    'My father Time is weak and gray

    With waiting for a better day;

    See how idiot-like he stands,

    Fumbling with his palsied hands!

    24.

    'He has had child after child,

    And the dust of death is piled

    Over every one but me -

    Misery, oh, Misery!'

    25.

    Then she lay down in the street,

    Right before the horses' feet,

    Expecting, with a patient eye,

    Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy.

    26.

    When between her and her foes

    A mist, a light, an image rose,

    Small at first, and weak, and frail

    Like the vapour of a vale:

    27.

    Till as clouds grow on the blast,

    Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,

    And glare with lightnings as they fly,

    And speak in thunder to the sky,

    28.

    It grew - a Shape arrayed in mail

    Brighter than the viper's scale,

    And upborne on wings whose grain

    Was as the light of sunny rain.

    29.

    On its helm, seen far away,

    A planet, like the Morning's, lay;

    And those plumes its light rained through

    Like a shower of crimson dew.

    30.

    With step as soft as wind it passed

    O'er the heads of men - so fast

    That they knew the presence there,

    And looked, - but all was empty air.

    31.

    As flowers beneath May's footstep waken,

    As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken,

    As waves arise when loud winds call,

    Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall.

    32.

    And the prostrate multitude

    Looked - and ankle-deep in blood,

    Hope, that maiden most serene,

    Was walking with a quiet mien:

    33.

    And Anarchy, the ghastly birth,

    Lay dead earth upon the earth;

    The Horse of Death tameless as wind

    Fled, and with his hoofs did grind

    To dust the murderers thronged behind.

    34.

    A rushing light of clouds and splendour,

    A sense awakening and yet tender

    Was heard and felt - and at its close

    These words of joy and fear arose

    35.

    As if their own indignant Earth

    Which gave the sons of England birth

    Had felt their blood upon her brow,

    And shuddering with a mother's throe

    36.

    Had turned every drop of blood

    By which her face had been bedewed

    To an accent unwithstood, -

    As if her heart had cried aloud:

    37.

    'Men of England, heirs of Glory,

    Heroes of unwritten story,

    Nurslings of one mighty Mother,

    Hopes of her, and one another;

    38.

    '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.

    39.

    'What is Freedom? - ye can tell

    That which slavery is, too well -

    For its very name has grown

    To an echo of your own.

    40.

    ''Tis to work and have such pay

    As just keeps life from day to day

    In your limbs, as in a cell

    For the tyrants' use to dwell,

    41.

    'So that ye for them are made

    Loom, and plough, and sword, and spade,

    With or without your own will bent

    To their defence and nourishment.

    42.

    ''Tis to see your children weak

    With their mothers pine and peak,

    When the winter winds are bleak, -

    They are dying whilst I speak.

    43.

    ''Tis to hunger for such diet

    As the rich man in his riot

    Casts to the fat dogs that lie

    Surfeiting beneath his eye;

    44.

    ''Tis to let the Ghost of Gold

    Take from Toil a thousandfold

    More than e'er its substance could

    In the tyrannies of old.

    45.

    'Paper coin - that forgery

    Of the title-deeds, which ye

    Hold to something of the worth

    Of the inheritance of Earth.

    46.

    ''Tis to be a slave in soul

    And to hold no strong control

    Over your own wills, but be

    All that others make of ye.

    47.

    'And at length when ye complain

    With a murmur weak and vain

    'Tis to see the Tyrant's crew

    Ride over your wives and you

    Blood is on the grass like dew.

    48.

    'Then it is to feel revenge

    Fiercely thirsting to exchange

    Blood for blood - and wrong for wrong -

    Do not thus when ye are strong.

    49.

    'Birds find rest, in narrow nest

    When weary of their winged quest;

    Beasts find fare, in woody lair

    When storm and snow are in the air.

    50.

    'Asses, swine, have litter spread

    And with fitting food are fed;

    All things have a home but one -

    Thou, Oh, Englishman, hast none!

    51.

    'This is Slavery - savage men,

    Or wild beasts within a den

    Would endure not as ye do -

    But such ills they never knew.

    52.

    'What art thou Freedom? O! could slaves

    Answer from their living graves

    This demand - tyrants would flee

    Like a dream's dim imagery:

    53.

    'Thou art not, as impostors say,

    A shadow soon to pass away,

    A superstition, and a name

    Echoing from the cave of Fame.

    54.

    'For the labourer thou art bread,

    And a comely table spread

    From his daily labour come

    In a neat and happy home.

    55.

    Thou art clothes, and fire, and food

    For the trampled multitude -

    No - in countries that are free

    Such starvation cannot be

    As in England now we see.

    56.

    '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.

    57.

    Thou art Justice - ne'er for gold

    May thy righteous laws be sold

    As laws are in England - thou

    Shield'st alike the high and low.

    58.

    'Thou art Wisdom - Freemen never

    Dream that God will damn for ever

    All who think those things untrue

    Of which Priests make such ado.

    59.

    'Thou art Peace - never by thee

    Would blood and treasure wasted be

    As tyrants wasted them, when all

    Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.

    60.

    'What if English toil and blood

    Was poured forth, even as a flood?

    It availed, Oh, Liberty,

    To dim, but not extinguish thee.

    61.

    'Thou art Love - the rich have kissed

    Thy feet, and like him following Christ,

    Give their substance to the free

    And through the rough world follow thee,

    62.

    'Or 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.

    63.

    'Science, Poetry, and Thought

    Are thy lamps; they make the lot

    Of the dwellers in a cot

    So serene, they curse it not.

    64.

    'Spirit, Patience, Gentleness,

    All that can adorn and bless

    Art thou - let deeds, not words, express

    Thine exceeding loveliness.

    65.

    'Let a great Assembly be

    Of the fearless and the free

    On some spot of English ground

    Where the plains stretch wide around.

    66.

    'Let the blue sky overhead,

    The green earth on which ye tread,

    All that must eternal be

    Witness the solemnity.

    67.

    '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,

    68.

    'From the workhouse and the prison

    Where pale as corpses newly risen,

    Women, children, young and old

    Groan for pain, and weep for cold -

    69.

    'From the haunts of daily life

    Where is waged the daily strife

    With common wants and common cares

    Which sows the human heart with tares -

    70.

    'Lastly from the palaces

    Where the murmur of distress

    Echoes, like the distant sound

    Of a wind alive around

    71.

    '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 -

    72.

    'Ye who suffer woes untold,

    Or to feel, or to behold

    Your lost country bought and sold

    With a price of blood and gold -

    73.

    'Let a vast assembly be,

    And with great solemnity

    Declare with measured words that ye

    Are, as God has made ye, free -

    74.

    '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.

    75.

    'Let the tyrants pour around

    With a quick and startling sound,

    Like the loosening of a sea,

    Troops of armed emblazonry.

    76.

    'Let the charged artillery drive

    Till the dead air seems alive

    With the clash of clanging wheels,

    And the tramp of horses' heels.

    77.

    'Let the fixed bayonet

    Gleam with sharp desire to wet

    Its bright point in English blood

    Looking keen as one for food.

    78.

    Let the horsemen's scimitars

    Wheel and flash, like sphereless stars

    Thirsting to eclipse their burning

    In a sea of death and mourning.

    79.

    'Stand ye calm and resolute,

    Like a forest close and mute,

    With folded arms and looks which are

    Weapons of unvanquished war,

    80.

    'And let Panic, who outspeeds

    The career of armed steeds

    Pass, a disregarded shade

    Through your phalanx undismayed.

    81.

    'Let the laws of your own land,

    Good or ill, between ye stand

    Hand to hand, and foot to foot,

    Arbiters of the dispute,

    82.

    'The old laws of England - they

    Whose reverend heads with age are gray,

    Children of a wiser day;

    And whose solemn voice must be

    Thine own echo - Liberty!

    83.

    '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.

    84.

    '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.

    85.

    'With folded arms and steady eyes,

    And little fear, and less surprise,

    Look upon them as they slay

    Till their rage has died away.

    86.

    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.

    87.

    'Every woman in the land

    Will point at them as they stand -

    They will hardly dare to greet

    Their acquaintance in the street.

    88.

    'And the bold, true warriors

    Who have hugged Danger in wars

    Will turn to those who would be free,

    Ashamed of such base company.

    89.

    'And that slaughter to the Nation

    Shall steam up like inspiration,

    Eloquent, oracular;

    A volcano heard afar.

    90.

    'And these words shall then become

    Like Oppression's thundered doom

    Ringing through each heart and brain,

    Heard again - again - again -

  

    91.

    '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.'


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