fas que Of Anae che 
 
 —1S43 - 
 
The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for its return on or before the 
 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books 
 are reasons for disciplinary action and may 
 result in dismissal from the University. 
 
 University of Illinois Library 
 
 L161— 0-1096 
 
I " 
 ers 
 
 ay 
 
 Ae Cy 
 any 
 
 Lh i 
 \ 
 
 ey b “5 
 ts 
 
MASQUE OF ANARCHY, 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 QUEEN LIBERTY; 
 
 SONG—TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND. 
 
 BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 
 
 WITH A PREFACE 
 
 BY LEIGH HUNT. 
 
 Hope is strong; 
 Justice and Truth their winged child have found. 
 REVOLT OF ISLAM. 
 
 Lonvon: 
 J. WATSON, 3, QUEEN’S HEAD PASSAGE, 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
 —— 
 
 1848, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Tuts Poem was written by Mr. Shelley on occasion of the bloodshed 
 at Manchester, in the year 1819. I was editor of the Examiner 
 at that time, and it was sent to me to be inserted or not in that 
 journal, as I thought fit. I did not insert it, because 1 thought 
 that the public at large had not become sufficiently discerning to 
 do justice to the sincerity and kind-heartedness of the spirit that 
 walked in this flaming robe of verse. His charity was avowedly 
 more than proportionate to his indignation; yet I thought that 
 even the suffering part of the people, judging, not unnaturally, 
 from their own feelings, and from the exasperation which suffer- 
 ing produces before it produces knowledge, would believe a 
 hundred-fold in his anger, to what they would in his good inten- 
 tion; and this made me fear that the common enemy would take 
 advantage of the mistake to do them both a disservice. Mr. 
 Shelley’s writings have since aided the general progress of know- 
 ledge in bringing about a wiser period; and an effusion, which 
 would have got him cruelly misrepresented a few years back, 
 ~~will now do unequivocal honour to his memory, and show every 
 An <ybody what a most considerate and kind, as well as fervent heart, 
 \ the cause of the world has lost. 
 S The poem, though written purposely in a lax and familiar 
 , measure, is highly characteristical of the author. It has the 
 usual ardour of his tone, the unbounded sensibility by which he 
 ~“.combines the most domestic with the most remote and fanciful 
 yeimages, and the patience, so beautifully checking, and, in fact, 
 a eel by, the extreme impatience of his moral feeling. His 
 “patience is the deposit of many impatiences, acting upon an 
 yequal measure of understanding and moral taste. His wisdom 
 is the wisdom of a heart overcharged with sensibility, acquiring 
 the profoundest notions of justice from the completest sympathy, 
 and at once taking refuge from its pain, and working out its 
 
 ts 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 extremest purposes, in the adoption of a stubborn and loving 
 fortitude which neutralizes resistance. His very strokes of 
 humour, while they startle with their extravagance and even 
 ghastliness, cut to the heart with pathos. The fourth and fifth 
 stanzas, for instance, of this Poem, involve an allusion; which 
 becomes affecting from our knowing what he must have felt 
 when he wrote it. It is to his children, who were taken from 
 him by the late Lord Chancellor, under that preposterous law, 
 by which every succeeding age might be made to blush for the 
 tortures inflicted on the opinions of its predecessor. 
 
 “Anarchy the Skeleton,’ riding through the streets, and 
 grinning and bowing on each side of him, 
 
 As well as if his education 
 Had cost ten millions to the nation, 
 
 is another instance of the union of ludicrousness with terror. 
 Hope, looking ‘‘more like Despair,’’? aud laying herself down 
 before his horses’ feet to die, is a touching image. The descrip- 
 tion of the rise and growth of the Public Enlightenment, 
 
 upborne on wings whose grain 
 Was as the light of sunny rain, 
 
 and producing ‘“ thoughts’? as he went, 
 As stars from night’s loose hair are sliaken, 
 till on a sudden the prostrate multitude look up, 
 
 and ankle-deep in blood, 
 Hope, that maiden most serene, * 
 Was walking with a quiet mien, 
 
 is rich with the author’s usual treasure of imagery and splendid 
 words. The sixty-third is a delicious stanza, producing a most — 
 happy and comforting picture in the midst of visions of blood 
 and tumult. We see the light from its cottage window. The 
 substantial blessings of Freedom are nobly described ; and lastly, 
 the advice given by the poet, the great national measure recom- 
 mended by him, is singularly striking as a political anticipation. 
 It advises what has since taken place, and what was felt by the 
 grown wisdom of the age to be the only thing which cowid take 
 place, with effect, as a final rebuke and nullification of the 
 Tories; to wit, a calm, lawful, and inflexible preparation for 
 resistance in the shape of a protesting multitude—the few against 
 the many,—the laborious and suffering against the spoilt children 
 of monopoly,—Man-kind against Tory-kind. It is true the Poet 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 recommends that there should be no active resistance, come 
 what might; which isa piece of fortitude, however effective, 
 which we believe was not contemplated by the Political Unions ; 
 yet, in pe ~y » «ke epirit of the thing, the success he anticipates 
 has actuaiy . .easzec, and after his very fashion ; for there really 
 has been no resistance, except by multitudinous protest. The 
 Tories, however desirous they showed themselves to draw their 
 swords, did not draw them. The battle was won without a blow. 
 
 Mr. Shelley’s countrymen know how anxious he was for the 
 advancement of the common good, but they have yet to become 
 acquainted with his anxiety in behalf of this particular means of 
 it—Reform. The first time I heard from him, was upon the 
 subject: it was before I knew him, and while he was a student 
 at Oxford, in the year 1811. So early did he begin his career of 
 philanthropy! Mankind, and their interests, were scarcely ever 
 out of his thoughts. It was a moot point when he entered your 
 room, whether he would begin with some half-pleasant, half- 
 pensive joke, or quote something Greék, or ask some question 
 about public affairs. I remember his coming upon me when 
 I had not seen him for a long time; and after grappling my 
 hands with both his, in his usual fervent manner, sitting down, 
 and looking at me very earnestly, with a deep though not melan- 
 choly interest in his face. We were sitting in a cottage study 
 with our knees to the fire, to which we had been getting nearer 
 and nearer in the comfort of finding ourselves together; the plea- 
 sure of seeing him was my only feeling at the moment; and the air 
 of domesticity about us was so complete, that I thought he was 
 going to speak of some family matter—either his or my own; 
 when he asked me, at the close of an intensity of pause, what 
 was ‘‘ the amount of the National Debt.’’ 
 
 I used to rally him on the apparent inconsequentiality of his 
 manner upon these occasions; and he was always ready to carry 
 on the joke, because he said that my laughter did not hinder my 
 being in earnest. With deepest love and admiration was my 
 laughter mixed, or I should not have ventured upon paying him 
 the compliment of it. 
 
 I have now before me his corrected proof of an anonymous 
 pamphlet which he wrote in the year 1817, entitled ‘‘ A Proposal 
 
 for Putting Reform to the Vote through the Country.” I will 
 
 make an extract or two from it, to show how zealous he was on 
 the subject; how generous in the example which he offered to 
 set in behalf of Reform; and how judicious as well as fervent 
 this most calumniated and noble spirit could be in recommending 
 the most avowed of his opinions. The title-page of the proof is 
 scrawled over with sketches of trees and foliage,- which was a 
 habit of his in the intervals of thinking, whenever he had pen or 
 pencilin hand. He would indulge in it while waiting for you at 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 an inn, or in a door-way, scratching his elms and oak-trees on 
 the walls. He did them very spiritedly, and with what the 
 painters cai. a gusto, particularly in point ‘of grace. If he had 
 room, he would add a cottage, and a piece of water, with a sail- 
 ing boat mooring among the trees. This was his beau tdeal of a 
 life, the repose of which was to be earned by zeal for his species, 
 and warranted by the common good. What else the image of a 
 boat brings to the memory of those who have lost him, I will not 
 say, especially as he is still with us in his writings. But it is 
 worth observing how agreeably this habit of sketching trees and 
 bowers evinced the gentleness of my friend’s nature, the longing 
 he had for rest, and the smallness of his personal desires. 
 
 It has been hastily implied in alate notice of him, in a peri- 
 odical work, that he was an aristocrat by disposition, as well as 
 birth ; a conclusion natural enough, even with intelligent men, 
 who have been bred among aristocratical influences ; but it is a pity 
 that any such persons should give it as their opinion, because it 
 tends to confirm inferior understandings in a similar delusion, 
 and to make the vulgarity of would-be refinement still more con- 
 fident in its assumptions. It is acknowledged on all hands, that 
 Mr. Shelley’s mind was not one to be measured by common 
 rules,—not even by such as the vulgar, great or small, take for 
 uncommon ones, or for cunning pieces of corporate knowledge 
 snugly kept between one another. If there is anything which I 
 can affirm of my beloved friend, with as much confidence as the 
 fact of his being benevolent and a friend, it is that he was totally 
 free from mistakes of this kind; that he never for one moment 
 confounded the claims of real and essential, with those of con- 
 ventional refinement; or allowed one to be substituted for the 
 other in his mind by any compromise of his self-love. 
 
 I will admit it to be-possible, that there were moments in which 
 he might have been deceived in his estimation of people’s man- 
 ners, in consequence of those to which he had been early accus- 
 tomed; but the charge implied against him involves a conscious, 
 or at least an habitual, preference of what are called high-bred 
 manners, for their own sakes, apart from the natures of those who 
 exhibited them, and to the disadvantage of those to whom they 
 had not been taught. I can affirm that it is a total mistake, and 
 that he partook of no such weakness. I have seen him indeed 
 draw himself up with a sort of irrepressible air of dignified 
 objection, when moral vulgarity was betrayed in his presence, 
 whatever might have been the rank of the betrayer; but nobody 
 could hail with greater joy and simplicity, or meet upon more 
 equal grounds, the instinct of a real delicacy and good intention, 
 come in what shape it might. Why should he have done other- 
 wise ? He was Shelley ; and not merely aman of that name. 
 What had ordinary high life, and its pretensions, and the getting 
 
PREFACI. 7 
 
 together of a few people for the sa ce of giving themselves a little 
 importance, to do with his universal affinities? It was finely said 
 one day in my hearing by Mr. Hazlitt, when asked why he could 
 not temporize a little now and then, or make a compromise with an 
 untruth, that it was ‘not worth his while.’’? It was not worth Mr. 
 Shelley’s while to be an aristocrat. His spirit was large enough 
 to take ten aristocracies into the hollow of his hand, and look at 
 them as I have seen him look at insects from a tree, certainly with 
 no thought either of superiority or the reverse, but with a curious 
 interest. 
 
 That quintessence of gentlemanly demeanour which was ob- 
 servable in Mr. Shelley, in drawing-rooms, when he was not 
 over-thoughtful, was nothing but an exquisite combination of 
 sense, moral grace, and habitual sympathy. It was more dignified 
 than what is called dignity in others, because it was the heart of 
 the thing itself, or intrinsic worth, graced by the sincerest ideal- 
 ism; and not a response made by imputed merit to the homage 
 of the imputers. The best conventional dignity could have no 
 more come up to it, than the trick of an occasion to the truth of a 
 life.* 
 
 But if an aristocracy of intellect and morals were required, he 
 was the man for one of their leaders. High and princely was the 
 example he could set to an aristocracy of a different sort, as the 
 reader will see by the following extract from his pamphlet. The 
 late death of an extraordinary man of genius, the delight of 
 nations, and the special glory of his country, has just shown the 
 blushing world what little things could be done for him, dead or 
 alive, by the “‘ great men’? whom he condescended to glorify. 
 The manager of a Scottish theatre (to his immortal credit) + has 
 contributed, in furtherance of the erection of amonument to him, 
 precisely the same sum as was drawn forth out of the money bags 
 of a Scottish Duke in the receipt of nearly a thousand pounds a 
 
 * The consciousness of possessing the respect of others, apart from any 
 reason for it but a conventional one, will sometimes produce a really fine ex- 
 pression of countenance, where the nature is good. On the other hand, I 
 have seen Mr. Shelley, from a doubt of the sympathy of those around him, 
 suddenly sink from the happier look above described, into an expression of 
 misgiving and even of destitution, that was extremely touching. It arose out 
 of a sudden impression, that all the sympathy was on his side. Sympathy is 
 undoubtedly the one thing needful and final; and though the receipt of it on 
 false grounds, appears the most formidable obstacle in the way of its true 
 ascendancy, and is so, yet out of the very spirit of that fact will come the 
 salvation of the world; for when once a right view of it gets into fashion, the 
 prejudices as well as understandings of mankind will be as much on that side 
 
 a4 they are against it now, and the acceleration of good be without a draw- 
 ack. 
 
 + Mr. Murray. I remember the gentlemanly paternity of his father’s man- 
 ner on the English stage, and the fine eyes of his sister (Mrs. Henry Sid- 
 dons); and was not surprised to find generosity in such a stock. 
 
3 PREFACE. 
 
 day. The sum is the same that is mentioned in the ensuing 
 paragraph from Mr. Shelley’s pamphlet. After proposing a 
 meeting of the Friends of Reform, for the purpose of recommend- 
 ing his plan to the nation, the author notices the expenses which 
 would probably be incurred; and then makes the following 
 offer :— : 
 
 “‘T have an income ofa thousand a year, on which I support 
 my wife and children in decent comfort, and from which I satisfy 
 certain large claims of general justice.* Should any plan re- 
 sembling that which I have proposed be’determined on by you, I 
 will give 100/., being a tenth part of one year’s income, towards 
 its object; and I will not deem so proudly of myself as to believe 
 that I shall stand alone in this respect, when any rational or con- 
 sistent scheme for the public benefit shall have received the sanc- 
 tion of those great and good men who have devoted themselves 
 for its preservation.” 
 
 The delight of talking about my friend, has led me intoa 
 longer Preface than I intended to write. I did not think of 
 detaining the reader so long from his Poem :—most probably, 
 indeed, I have not detained him. I will, however, make the 
 other, and longer extract, without further remark. If this Pam- 
 phlet was the work of an aristocrat, even in the passages where 
 it recommends time to be given for the abolition of his class, he 
 was surely the strangest republican of an aristocrat that ever 
 existed, and had the oddest notions of what was puerile!+ 
 
 ‘** A certain degree of coalition,” says he, “‘ among the sincere 
 friends of Reform, in whatever shape, is indispensable to the suc- 
 cess of this proposal. The friends of universal or of limited 
 suffrage, of Annual or Triennial Parliaments, ought to settle the 
 subjects on which they disagree, when it is known whether the 
 nation wills that measure on which they are all agreed. It is 
 trivial to discuss what species of Reform should have place, when 
 
 * By these ‘claims of justice,” he meant the wants of his friends and the 
 poor. I do not wish, God knows, to dispute the phrase with him; but such 
 
 were the notions of this singular “ aristocrat,”’ and most equal-sightea fellow- 
 creature. 
 
 + See his works, passim. A multitude of passages might be quoted, such 
 as no aristocrat would write out of mere spleen, or ‘‘ with greater pride of 
 his own.”? They are too frequent, earnest, and full of thought. If Mr. 
 Shelley met with a gird at things aristocratical, in any book he was reading, 
 he marked it as worthy to be noted. I was looking the other day into.a 
 Diogenes Laertius that belonged to him, and almost the first passage I met 
 with thus marked, was a saying of the biographer’s namesake, in which 
 birth and honours are treated with contempt. I am not here begging the 
 question against such things. I am merely recording my friend’s real 
 Opinions. The only sentiment by which a privileged class is to be vindi- 
 cated, may claim a fair discussion; and the settlement of it be safely left to 
 
 the growth of the sentiment itself, and its expansion into a freedom from its 
 own necessity. 
 
PREFACE. 9 
 
 it yet remains a question whether there will be any Reform or no. 
 Meanwhile, nothing remains for me but to state explicitly my 
 sentiments on this subject The statement is indeed guite 10- 
 reign to the merits of the proposal in itself; and I should have 
 suppressed it, until called upon to subscribe such a requisition as 
 I have suggested, if the question which it is natural to ask, as to 
 what are the sentiments of the person who originates the scheme, 
 could have received in any other manner a more simple oz direct 
 reply. 
 
 “It appears to me, that Annual Parliaments ought to be 
 adopted as an immediate measure, as one which strongly tends 
 to preserve the liberty and happiness of the nation. It would 
 enable men to cultivate those energies on which the performance 
 of the political duties belonging to the citizen of a free state, as 
 the rightful guardian of its prosperity, essentially depends; it 
 would familiarize men with liberty, by disciplining them to an 
 habitual acquaintance with its forms. Political institution is un- 
 doubtedly susceptible of such improvements as no rational 
 person can consider possible, so long as the present degraded 
 condition to which the vital imperfections in the existing system 
 of government has reduced the vast multitude of men shall sub- 
 sist. The securest method of arriving at such beneficial innova- 
 tions, is to proceed gradually, and with caution; or, in the place 
 of that order and fredom, which the friends of Reform assert to 
 be violated now, anarchy and despotism will follow. Annual 
 Parliaments have my entire assent. I will not state those 
 general reasonings in their favour, which Mr. Cobbett and other 
 writers have already made familiar to the public mind. 
 
 “With respect to Universal Suffrage, I confess I consider its 
 adoption, in the present unprepared state of public knowledge and 
 feeling, fraught with peril. I think that none but those who re- 
 gister their names as paying a certain smail sum in direct taxes, * 
 ought, at present, to send Members to Parliament. The conse- 
 quence of the immediate extension of the elective franchise to 
 every male adult, would be to place power in the hands of men 
 who have been rendered brutal and torpid and ferocious, by ages 
 of slavery. It is to suppose that the qualities belonging to a 
 demagogue are such as are sufficient to endow a legislator. I 
 allow Major Cartwright’s arguments to be unanswerable ; 
 abstractedly it is the right of every human being to have a share 
 in the government. But Mr. Paine’s arguments are also un- 
 answerable: a pure republic may be shewn, by inferences the most 
 obvious and irresistible, to be that system of social order the fittest 
 to produce the happiness, and promote the genwine eminence of 
 
 * His own italics. The rest are the editor’s. 
 
 B 
 
10 PREFACE. 
 
 man. Yet nothing can be less consistent with reason, or afford 
 smaller hopes of any beneficial issue, than the plan which should 
 abolish the regal and the aristocratical branches of our constitu- 
 tion, before the public mind, through many gradations of improve- 
 ment, shall have arrived at the maturity which can disregard 
 those symbols of its childhood.” 
 
 I need not point out to the reader’s attention the singular and 
 happy anticipations contained in the above extract; neither shall 
 I stop to inquire how far Mr. Shelley would have thought the 
 feasibilities of improvement hastened by the events that have 
 taken place of late years—events, one of them in particular, 
 (the Glorious Three Days) which it would have repaid him for 
 all his endurances, had he lived to see. 
 
 And who shall say that he has not seen them? For if ever 
 there was aman upon earth, of a more spiritual nature than 
 ordinary, partaking of the errors and perturbations of his species, 
 but seeing and working through them with a seraphical purpose 
 of good, such an one was Percy Bysshe Shelley. 
 
 | Os = 
 
THE 
 
 MASQUE OF ANARCHY 
 
 I. 
 
 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. 
 
 ul. 
 
 I met Murder on the way— 
 
 He had a mask like Castlereagh— 
 Very smooth he look’d, yet grim ; 
 Seven bloodhounds followed him : 
 
 Ill. 
 
 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. 
 
 Iv. 
 Next came Fraud, and he had on, 
 Like Lord Eldon, an ermined gown; 
 His big tears, for he wept well, 
 Turned to mill-stones as they fell ; 
 
 Vv. 
 And the little children, who 
 Round his feet played to and fro, 
 Thinking every tear a gem, 
 Had their brains knocked out by them. 
 
THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Clothed with the Bible as with light, 
 And the shadows of the night, 
 
 Like Sidmouth next, Hypocrisy, 
 On a crocodile rode by. 
 
 VII. 
 
 And many more Destructions played 
 In this ghastly masquerade, 
 
 All disguised, even to the eyes, 
 
 Like bishops, lawyers, peers, -or spies. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Last came Anarchy ; he rode 
 
 On a white horse, splashed with blood ; 
 He was pale even to the lips, 
 
 Like Death in the Apocalypse. 
 
 Ix. 
 
 And he wore a kingly crown; 
 
 And in his grasp a sceptre shone ; 
 And on his brow this mark I saw— 
 ““T am God, and King, and Law !”’ 
 
 x. 
 
 With a pace stately and fast, 
 Over English land he past, 
 Trampling to a mire of blood 
 The adoring multitude. 
 
 XI. 
 
 And a mighty troop around, 
 
 With their trampling shook the ground, 
 Waving each a bloody sword, 
 
 For the service of their Lord. 
 
 XII. 
 
 And with glorious triumph, they 
 
 Rode through England proud and gay, 
 Drunk as with intoxication 
 
 Of the wine of desolation. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 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. 
 
THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 13 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And each dweller, panic-stricken, 
 Felt his heart with terror sicken, 
 Hearing the tempestuous cry 
 
 Of the triumph of Anarchy. 
 
 XV. 
 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. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 “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.” 
 
 XVI. 
 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.” 
 
 XVIII. 
 Then all cried with one accord, 
 “Thou art King, and God, and Lord ; 
 Anarchy, to thee we bow, 
 Be thv name made holy now!”’ 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And Anarchy, the skeleton, 
 
 Bowed and grinned to every one, 
 As well as if his education, 
 
 Had cost ten millions to the nation. 
 
 oeX. 
 For he knew the palaces 
 
 Of our kings were nightly his ; 
 His the sceptre, crown, and globe, 
 And the gold-in-woven robe. 
 
 wr. 
 
 So he sent his slaves before 
 
 To seize upon the Bank and Tower, 
 And was proceeding with intent 
 
 To meet his pensioned parliament, 
 
14 
 
 THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 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; 
 
 XXII. 
 
 ‘My father, Time, is weak and grey 
 With waiting for a better day ; 
 
 See how idiot-like he stands, 
 Fumbling with his palsied hands! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 ‘ He has had child after child, 
 And the dust of death is piled 
 Over every one but me— 
 Misery! oh, Misery !” 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Then she lay down in the street, 
 Right before the horses’ feet, 
 Expecting with a patient eye, 
 Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 When between her and her foes 
 A mist, a light, an image rose, 
 Small at first, and weak and frail 
 Like the vapour of the vale: 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Till, as clouds grow on the blast, 
 
 Like tower-crown’d giants striding fast, 
 And glare with lightnings as they fly, 
 And speak in thunder to the sky, 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 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. 
 
 XKEX. 
 
 On its helm, seen far away, 
 
 A planet, like the morning’s lay ; 
 
 And those plumes it light rained through, 
 Like a shower of crimson dew. 
 
THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 XEX. 
 With step as soft as wind it passed 
 O’er the heads of men—so fast 
 That they knew the presence there, 
 And looked—and all was empty air. 
 
 XXXI. 
 As flowers beneath the 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. 
 
 XEXIT. 
 And the prostrate muliitude 
 Looked—and ankle deep in blood, 
 Hope, that maiden most serene, 
 Was walking with a quiet mien : 
 
 XXXII. 
 ’ 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. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 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: 
 
 XXXV. 
 (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, 
 
 XXXVI. 
 Had turned every drop of blood, 
 By which her face had been bedewed, 
 To an accent unwithstood, 
 As if her heart had cried aloud :) 
 
 XXXVII. 
 ** Men of England, Heirs of Glory, 
 Heroes of unwritten story, 
 Nurslings of one mighty mother, 
 Hopes of her and one another, 
 
 15 
 
16 
 
 THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 “* Rise, like lions after slumber, 
 
 In unvanquishable number, 
 
 Shake your chains to earth like dew, 
 Which in sleep had fall’n on you. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 ‘* What is Freedom? Ye can tell 
 That which Slavery is too well, 
 For its very name has grown 
 
 To an echo of your own. 
 
 D4 
 ** 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 : 
 
 ELA 
 ‘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. 
 
 Ba 8 
 
 ** Tis to see your children weak 
 With their mothers pine and peak, 
 When the winter winds are bleak :— 
 They are dying whilst I speak. 
 
 XLII. 
 “ *Tis to hunger for such diet, 
 As the rich man in his riot 
 Casts to the fat dogs that lie 
 Surfeiting beneath his eye. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 **?Tis to let the Ghost of Gold 
 Take from toil a thousand fold, 
 More than e’er its substance could 
 In the tyrannies of old: 
 
 XLV. 
 ‘“« Paper coin-—that forgery 
 
 Of the title deeds, which ye 
 Hold to something of the worth 
 Of the inheritance of Earth. 
 
THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 XLVI. 
 ** Tis to be a slave in soul, 
 And to kold no strong controul 
 Over your own wills, but be 
 All that others make of ye. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 ‘¢ And at length when ye complain, 
 With a murmur weak and vain, 
 Tis to see the tyrant’s crew 
 
 Ride cver your wives and you :— 
 Blood is on the grass like dew. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 “Then it is to feel revenge, 
 
 Fiercely thirsting to exchange 
 
 Blood for blood—and wrong for wrong ° 
 Do NoT THUS, WHEN YE ARE STRONG. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 ‘‘ Birds find rest in narrow nest, 
 When weary of the winged quest; 
 Beasts find fare in woody lair, 
 
 When storm and snow are in the air. 
 
 bi 
 
 “‘ Asses, swine, have litter spread, 
 And with fitting food are fed ; 
 
 All things have a home but one: 
 Thou, oh Englishman, hast none! 
 
 LI. 
 
 ‘This is Slavery—savage men, 
 Or wild beasts within a den, 
 Would endure not as ye do: 
 But such ills they never knew. 
 
 Lil. 
 ** What art thou, Freedom? Oh! could Slaves 
 Answer from their living graves 
 This demand, tyrants would flee 
 Like a dream’s dim imagery. 
 
 LUI. 
 
 “ Thou art not, as impostors say, 
 A shadow soon to pass away, 
 
 A superstition, and a name 
 Echoing from the caves of Fame. 
 
18 
 
 ThE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 “For the labourer thou art bread, 
 And a comely table spread, 
 
 From his daily labour come, 
 
 In a neat and happy home. 
 
 Lv. 
 
 ‘* 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. 
 
 LVI. 
 “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. 
 
 LVI. 
 “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. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 ‘*Thou art Wisdom—Freedom never 
 Dreams that God will damn for ever 
 All who think those things untrue, 
 Of which priests make such ado. 
 
 LiXi 
 
 ‘* 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. 
 
 Let 
 
 “‘ What if English toil and blood 
 Was poured forth, even as a flood! 
 It availed,—oh Liberty ! 
 
 To dim—but not extinguish thee. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 ‘Thou art Love—the rich have kist 
 Thy feet, and like him following Christ, 
 Give their substance to the free, 
 And through the rough world follow thee. 
 
Ke) 
 
 THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. ] 
 
 LXII. 
 **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. 
 
 LXIIl. 
 ‘Science and Poetry and Thought 
 Are thy lamps; they make the lot 
 Of the dwellers in a cot 
 So serene, they curse it not. 
 
 LXIV. 
 ‘“ Spirit, Patience, Gentleness, 
 All that can adorn and bless, 
 Art thou: let deeds, not words, express 
 Thine exceeding loveliness. 
 
 iyy. 
 
 ** Let a great assembly be 
 
 Of the fearless, of the free, 
 
 On some spot of English ground, 
 Where the plains stretch wide around. 
 
 LXVI. 
 ‘Let the blue sky overhead, 
 
 The green earth, on which ye tread, 
 All that must eternal be, 
 
 Witness the solemnity. 
 
 LXVII. 
 ‘‘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 and their own : 
 
 LXVIII. 
 ‘‘From the workhouse and the prison, 
 Where pale as corpses newly risen, 
 Women, children, young, and old, 
 Groan for pain, and weep for cold ; 
 
 LXIX. 
 ‘‘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; » 
 
THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 LEX. 
 ‘“‘ Lastly, from the palaces, 
 Where the murmur of distress 
 Echoes, like the distant sound 
 Of a wind alive around ; 
 
 LEXI. 
 ‘‘ 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 ; 
 
 LXXII. 
 ** Ye who suffer woes untold, 
 Or to feel, or to behold 
 Your lost country bought and sold 
 With a price of blood and gold ; 
 
 LXXIll. 
 ‘* Let a vast assembly be, 
 And with great solemnity 
 Declare with measured words, that ye 
 Are, as God has made ye, free! 
 
 LXXIV. 
 *‘ 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. 
 
 LXXV. 
 “ Let the tyrants pour around 
 With a quick and startling sound, 
 Like the loosening of a sea, 
 Troops of armed emblazonry. 
 
 LXXVi. 
 ** Let the charged artillery drive, 
 Till the dead air seems alive 
 
 With the clash of clanging wheels, 
 And the tramp of horses’ heels. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 “‘ Let the fixed bayonet 
 Gleam with sharp desire to wet 
 Its bright point in English blood, 
 Looking keen as one for food. 
 
THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 21 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 ** Let the horsemen’s scimitars 
 Wheei and flash, like sphereless stars, 
 Thirsting to eclipse their burning 
 
 In a sea of death and mourning. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 “Stand ye calm and resolute, 
 
 Like a forest close and mute, 
 
 With folded arms, and looks which are 
 Weapons of an unvanquished war. 
 
 Laxx. 
 ‘** And let Panic, who outspeeds 
 The career of armed steeds, 
 Pass, a disregarded shade, 
 Thro’ your phalanx undismay’d.* 
 
 TANK. 
 ** Let the laws of your own land, 
 Good or ill, between ye stand, 
 Hand to hand, and, foot to foot, 
 Arbiters of the dispute. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 ** 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 ! 
 
 ‘ LEXSIt- 
 ** On those who first should violate 
 Such sacred heralds in thetr state, 
 Rest the blood that must ensue, 
 And it will not rest on you. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 ‘ And if then the tyrants dare, 
 
 iet them ride among you there ; 
 Slash, and stab, and maim, and hew; 
 What they like, that let them do. 
 
 * The tnree stanzas next ensuing are printed in italics, not because they 
 are better, or indeed so well written, as some of the rest, but as marking out 
 the sober, lawful, and charitable mode of:proceeding advocated and antici- 
 pated by this supposed reckless innovator. ‘* Passive obedience’’ he certainly 
 
22 THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY. 
 
 LXKXV. 
 
 ** With folded arms and steady eyes, 
 And little fear and less surprise, 
 Look upon them as they slay 
 
 Till their rage has died away : 
 
 LXXXVi. 
 “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 : 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 ‘* Every woman in the land 
 
 Will point at them as they stand— 
 They will hardly dare to greet 
 Their acquaintance in the street : 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 ** And the bold, true warriors, 
 
 Who have hugged Danger in wars, 
 Will turn to those who would be free 
 Ashamed of such base company : 
 
 TXRKEN, 
 
 “* And that slaughter to the nation 
 Shall steam up like inspiration, 
 Eloquent, oracular, 
 
 A volcano heard afar : 
 
 KO: 
 ‘* And these words shall then become 
 Like Oppression’s thundered doom, 
 Ringing through each heart and brain, 
 Heard again—again—again. 
 
 ans 
 Rise like lions after slumber 
 
 In unvanquishable NuMBER! 
 
 Shake your chains to earth like dew 
 Which in sleep had fall’n on you: 
 YE ARE MANY—THEY ARE FEW. 
 
 had not; but here follows a picture and a recommendation of *‘ non-resist« 
 ance,” in allits glory. The mingled emotion and dignity of it is admirably 
 expressed in the second line of stanza eighty-five. Let churches militant read 
 it, and blush to call the author no Christian ! 
 
23 
 
 QUEEN LIBERTY. 
 
 Gop prosper, speed, and save, 
 God raise from England’s grave 
 
 Her murdered Queen ! 
 Pave with swift victory 
 The steps of Liberty, 
 Whom Britons own to be 
 
 » Immortal Queen. 
 
 See, she comes throned on high, 
 On swift Eternity ! 
 
 God save the Queen ! 
 Millions on millions wait 
 Firm, rapid, and elate, 
 On her majestic state ! 
 
 God save the Queen: 
 She is thine own pure soul 
 Moulding the mighty whole, 
 
 God save the Queen! 
 
 She is thine own deep love 
 Rained down from heaven above, ® 
 Wherever she rest or move, 
 
 God save our Queen ! 
 
 Wilder her enemies 
 In their own dark disguise, 
 God save our Queen ! 
 
 All earthly things that dare 
 Her sacred name to bear, 
 Strip them, as Kings are, bare; 
 God save the Queen! 
 Be her eternal throne 
 Built in our hearts alone, 
 God save the Queen ! 
 
 Let the oppressor hold 
 Canopied seats of gold; 
 She sits enthroned of old 
 O’er our hearts Queen ! 
 
 Lips touched by seraphim 
 Breathe out the choral hymn 
 God save the Queen ! 
 Sweet as if Angels sang, 
 Loud as that trumpet’s clang, 
 Wakening the world’s dead gang, 
 God save the Queen! 
 
SONG. 
 TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND, 
 
 Men of England, wherefore plough 
 For the lords who lay ye low? 
 Wherefore weave with toil and care, . 
 The rich robes your tyrants wear? 
 
 Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save, 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 
 Those ungrateful drones who would 
 Drain your sweat—nay, drink your blood! 
 
 Wherefore, Bees of England, forge 
 Many a weapon, chain, and scourge, 
 That these stingless drones may-spoil 
 The forced produce of your toil? 
 
 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? — 
 
 The seed ye sow, another reaps; 
 The wealth ye find another keeps ; 
 The robes ye weave, another wears; 
 The arms ye forge, another bears. 
 
 Sow, seed,—but let no tyrant reap ; 
 
 - Find wealth,—let no impostor heap ; 
 Weave robes,—iet not the idle wear ; 
 Forge arms,—in your defence to bear. 
 
 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. 
 
 With plough, and spade, and hoe, and loom, 
 Tracs your grave, and build your tomb, 
 And weave your winding-sheet till fair 
 England be your sepulchre. 
 
 e 
 
 THE END, 
 
f ‘ es ye Ag? 
 lA f é bidet vi? 
 yf i f 
 ; j ' { a 
 Mi F i tA ee 
 eT LASo Oar 3 Lea 
 I } ny ¥ ‘ 
 , Pat ,! if 
 ’ 
 j , r ) if 
 vi 
 ) " 6 
 ' 
 ; : Ss 
 { i | 
 n Ly 
 * 
 i 
 t § 
 yy 
 \ f 
 \ J 
 y 
 a ‘ 
 l 7 
 jivh "I 
 i 
 ii 
 ] : 
 Las . 
 Li 
 ; 
 U 
 + 
 i 
 ’ 
 | 
 : 
 t 
 * 
 - 
 i 
 ‘ 
 “ 
 \ 
 ' [ 
 1 i 
 V iy 
 fb * 
 a in| 
 i 
 { 
 { \ 
 | 
 pa 
 ' i 
 ; 7 3 = 4 s » 
 } - ce ih by "ls 
 { t : oN, 
 | : ) \} 
 i \ ek: 
 ) Oat 
 | 
 
pais . : ‘ 
 Pes falta b 
 aie ann 
 
 4 
 va 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS- URBANA 
 
 NNN 
 
 3 0112 070315566