Freedom, yes, but a Freedom combed and curled,
A safe, tame Freedom, eating from the hand,
A Freedom which will lie down at command
Not this wild wench whose scarlet flag unfurled
Threatens our cozy, comfortable world
With voice like thunder echoing through the land,
Who tramps the highway with her ragged band
Of va-nu-pieds from the depths upwhirled.
God save us from her — We've no use for kings,
Crowns are obnoxious, sceptres are taboo,
But lawyers, plutocrats, are sacred things.
Touch not the Black Coat, lest you should undo
The very woof of life and fling destroyed,
Our spinning earth to chaos and the void.