The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley read by Zane C Weber

The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley1.As I lay asleep in ItalyThere came a voice from over the Sea,And with great power it forth led meTo walk in the visions of Poesy.2.I met Murder on the way -He had a mask like Castlereagh -Very smooth he looked, yet grim;Seven blood-hounds followed him:3.All were fat; and well they mightBe in admirable plight,For one by one, and two by two,He tossed them human hearts to chewWhich from his wide cloak he drew.4.Next came Fraud, and he had on,Like Eldon, an ermined gown;His big tears, for he wept well,Turned to mill-stones as they fell.5.And the little children, whoRound his feet played to and fro,Thinking every tear a gem,Had their brains knocked out by them.6.Clothed with the Bible, as with light,And the shadows of the night,Like Sidmouth, next, HypocrisyOn a crocodile rode by.7.And many more Destructions playedIn this ghastly masquerade,All disguised, even to the eyes,Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.8.Last came Anarchy: he rodeOn a white horse, splashed with blood;He was pale even to the lips,Like Death in the Apocalypse.9.And he wore a kingly crown;And in his grasp a sceptre shone;On his brow this mark I saw -'I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!'10.With a pace stately and fast,Over English land he passed,Trampling to a mire of bloodThe adoring multitude.11.And a mighty troop around,With their trampling shook the ground,Waving each a bloody sword,For the service of their Lord.12.And with glorious triumph, theyRode through England proud and gay,Drunk as with intoxicationOf the wine of desolation.13.O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,Passed the Pageant swift and free,Tearing up, and trampling down;Till they came to London town.14.And each dweller, panic-stricken,Felt his heart with terror sickenHearing the tempestuous cryOf the triumph of Anarchy.15.For with pomp to meet him came,Clothed in arms like blood and flame,The hired murderers, who did sing'Thou art God, and Law, and King.16.'We have waited, weak and loneFor thy coming, Mighty One!Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,Give us glory, and blood, and gold.'17.Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,To the earth their pale brows bowed;Like a bad prayer not over loud,Whispering - 'Thou art Law and God.' -18.Then all cried with one accord,'Thou art King, and God, and Lord;Anarchy, to thee we bow,Be thy name made... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.