1. Suddenly out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves,

Like lightning it le’pt forth, half startled at itself,

Its feet upon the ashes and the rags — its hands tight to the throats of kings.

2. O hope and faith !

O aching close of exiled patriots' lives !

O many a sickened heart !

Turn back unto this day, and make yourselves afresh.

3. And you, paid to defile the People ! you liars, mark !

Not for numberless agonies, murders, lusts,

For court thieving in its manifold mean forms, worming from his simplicity the poor man's wages,

For many a promise sworn by royal lips, and broken, and laughed 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 scorned the ferocity of kings.

4. But the sweetness of mercy brewed bitter destruction, and the frightened rulers come back,