What if our numbers barely could defy The arithmetic of babes, must foreign hordes, Slaves, vile as ever were befooled by words, Striking through English breasts the anarchy Of Terror, bear us to the ground, and tie Our hands behind our backs with felon cords? Yields everything to discipline of swords? Is man as good as man, none low, none high?-- Nor discipline nor valour can withstand The shock, nor quell the inevitable rout, When in some great extremity breaks out A people, on their own beloved Land Risen, like one man, to combat in the sight Of a just God for liberty and right. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DREAM, OR THE TYPE OF THE RISING SUN by JEAN ADAMS SONG OF THE SPANISH JEWS by GRACE AGUILAR THE LITTLE MATCH-GIRL by HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN A POEM FOR THE SEFIROT AS WHEEL OF LIGHT by NAFTALI BACHARACH ON A PORTRAIT by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE CARPERS (AN ASPECT) by WILLIAM ROSE BENET SONNETS FOR NEW YORK CITY: 2. A POLITICAL 'BOSS' by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |