Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
 |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. | XXXIV.
|
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
 | Holy of holies |  |
38
XXXIV.
[I hear one say, much merit to revive]
I hear one say, much merit to reviveA spirit fall'n so far 'neath sympathy!—
Dogs, who are ye to judge, who fawn and lie,
Who suffer tyrants in your midst to thrive,
And howl on priests your coward sins to shrive,
Who cringe and trample, bred for slavery,
Who batten on the poor with usury,
And dock his wage to keep your lusts alive?
A cry of ragged babes goes through your land,
And anguished women slaughtered for your lust,
And slaves that bear your water and your logs.
Your daily bread is murder; from your hand
The worm shall turn with loathing in the dust;
And ye cry out on me a freeman! Dogs.
Feb. 3rd, 1886.
| Holy of holies | |