The 72nd and 73rd Years of These States
Suddenly out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves, Like lightning it leāpt forth half startled at itself, Its feet upon the ashes and the rags, its hands tight to the throats of kings.
O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriotsā lives! O many a sickenād heart! Turn back unto this day and make yourselves afresh.
And you, paid to defile the Peopleā āyou liars, mark! Not for numberless agonies, murders, lusts, For court thieving in its manifold mean forms, worming from his simplicity the poor manās wages, For many a promise sworn by royal lips and broken and laughād at in the breaking, Then in their power not for all these did the blows strike revenge, or the heads of the nobles fall; The People scornād the ferocity of kings.