1. 
Corpses are cold in the tomb;
Stones on the pavement are dumb;
Abortions are dead in the womb,
And their mothers look pale—­like the death-white shore
Of Albion, free no more. 5

2. 
Her sons are as stones in the way—­
They are masses of senseless clay—­
They are trodden, and move not away,—­
The abortion with which SHE travaileth
Is Liberty, smitten to death. 10

3. 
Then trample and dance, thou Oppressor! 
For thy victim is no redresser;
Thou art sole lord and possessor
Of her corpses, and clods, and abortions—­they pave
Thy path to the grave. 15

4. 
Hearest thou the festival din
Of Death, and Destruction, and Sin,
And Wealth crying “Havoc!” within? 
’Tis the bacchanal triumph that makes Truth dumb,
Thine Epithalamium. 20

5. 
Ay, marry thy ghastly wife! 
Let Fear and Disquiet and Strife
Spread thy couch in the chamber of Life! 
Marry Ruin, thou Tyrant! and Hell be thy guide
To the bed of the bride! 25

NOTES:  4 death-white Harvard, Fred.; white 1832, 1839. 16 festival Harvard, Fred., 1839; festal 1832. 19 that Fred.; which Harvard 1832. 22 Disquiet Harvard, Fred., 1839; Disgust 1832. 24 Hell Fred.; God Harvard, 1832, 1839. 25 the bride Harvard, Fred., 1839; thy bride 1832.

***

SONG TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 1st edition.]

1. 
Men of England, wherefore plough
For the lords who lay ye low? 
Wherefore weave with toil and care
The rich robes your tyrants wear?

2. 
Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save, 5
From the cradle to the grave,
Those ungrateful drones who would
Drain your sweat—­nay, drink your blood?

3. 
Wherefore, Bees of England, forge
Many a weapon, chain, and scourge, 10
That these stingless drones may spoil
The forced produce of your toil?

4. 
Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,
Shelter, food, love’s gentle balm? 
Or what is it ye buy so dear 15
With your pain and with your fear?

5. 
The seed ye sow, another reaps;
The wealth ye find, another keeps;
The robes ye weave, another wears;
The arms ye forge; another bears. 20

6. 
Sow seed,—­but let no tyrant reap;
Find wealth,—­let no impostor heap;
Weave robes,—­let not the idle wear;
Forge arms,—­in your defence to bear.