The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Part 59

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 _110 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; _115 And those plumes its light rained through Like a shower of crimson dew.

30.

With step as soft as wind it pa.s.sed O'er the heads of men--so fast That they knew the presence there, _120 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. _125

32.

And the prostrate mult.i.tude Looked--and ankle-deep in blood, Hope, that maiden most serene, Was walking with a quiet mien:

33.

And Anarchy, the ghastly birth, _130 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, _135 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 _140 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,-- _145 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; _150

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. _155

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 _160 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, _165 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,-- _170 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; _175

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 _180 Of the t.i.tle-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 _185 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 _190 Ride over your wives and you Blood is on the gra.s.s like dew.

48.

'Then it is to feel revenge Fiercely thirsting to exchange Blood for blood--and wrong for wrong-- _195 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. _200

50.

'a.s.ses, 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, _205 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 _210 This demand--tyrants would flee Like a dream's dim imagery:

53.

'Thou art not, as impostors say, A shadow soon to pa.s.s away, A superst.i.tion, and a name _215 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. _220

55.

Thou art clothes, and fire, and food For the trampled mult.i.tude-- No--in countries that are free Such starvation cannot be As in England now we see. _225

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 _230 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 G.o.d will d.a.m.n for ever _235 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 _240 Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.