 | Poems |  |
139
LIBERTÉ, ÉGALITÉ, FRATERNITÉ.
Ye fought for justice, and ye won it not!
Ye bled for freedom, and ye are not free!
Why will ye mock your mis-appointed lot
With songs of joy and words of jubilee?
Ye bled for freedom, and ye are not free!
Why will ye mock your mis-appointed lot
With songs of joy and words of jubilee?
Tear the brave blazon down! the palace halls
Ye thrust a king from, hold a king again!
Ye let God's light into the dungeon walls;
Like ye the clanking of the mended chain?
Ye thrust a king from, hold a king again!
Ye let God's light into the dungeon walls;
Like ye the clanking of the mended chain?
Small right ye have to breathe these holy words,
Ye that on Triumph's threshold turned away;
Losing with smiles all that ye won with swords,
Pawning your honour for a holiday.
Ye that on Triumph's threshold turned away;
Losing with smiles all that ye won with swords,
Pawning your honour for a holiday.
Lower ye cannot sink; be this your pride,
Wave the red rag, and waste your fickle breath!
The triple watchword is for those that died—
Not ye that live!—yes!—Liberty is Death.
Wave the red rag, and waste your fickle breath!
The triple watchword is for those that died—
Not ye that live!—yes!—Liberty is Death.
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