Classic Poem

England, how noble are thine enemies
And how unutterably base art thou!
Put sackcloth therefore on thy loins and bow
Thine head before the lightnings of mine eyes.
Round the orbed world the tale of rapine flies
Of how thou slew'st the peasant at his plough,
Rased'st his farm and dravest off his cow,
With many similar enormities.

But while the ignoble mob, with senseless cheer,
Applaud thy tardy victories and bless
The bloody men who taught thy foes to fear
And crowned thy recreant banners with success,
Listen attentively and thou shalt hear
My shrill voice crying in the wilderness!