x.
Over English land he passed.
Trampling to a mire of blood 40
The adoring multitude.
xi.
With their trampling shook the ground,
Waving each a bloody sword,
For the service of their Lord. 45
xii.
Rode through England proud and gay,
Drunk as with intoxication
Of the wine of desolation.
xiii.
Passed the[1] Pageant swift and free,
Tearing up, and trampling down;
Till they came to London town.
xiv.
Felt his heart with terror sicken 55x
Hearing the tempestuous[2] cry
Of the triumph of Anarchy.
xv.
Clothed in arms like blood and flame.
The hired murderers, who did sing 60
'Thou art God, and Law, and King.
xvi.
For thy coming, Mighty One!
Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,
Give us glory, and blood, and gold.' 65
xvii.
To the earth their pale brows bowed;
Like a bad prayer not over loud,
Whispering— 'Thou art Law and God.'—
xviii.
'Thou art King, and God[4], and Lord;
Anarchy, to thee we bow,
Be thy name made holy now!'
xix.
Bowed and grinned to every one, 75
As well as if his education
Had cost ten millions to the nation.
xx.
Of our Kings were rightly[5] his;
His the sceptre, crown, and globe, 80
And the gold-inwoven robe.
xxi.
To seize upon the Bank and Tower,
And was proceeding with intent
To meet his pensioned Parliament 85
xxii.
And her name was Hope, she said:
But she looked more like Despair,
And she cried out in the air:
xxiii.
With waiting for a better day;
See how idiot-like he stands,
Fumbling[6] with his palsied hands!
xxiv.
And the dust of death is piled 95
Over every one but me—
Misery, oh, Misery!'
xxv.
Right before the horses' feet,
Expecting, with a patient eye, 100
Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy.