A VOICE, from long-expecting thousands sent, Shatters the air, and troubles tower and spire; For Justice hath absolved the innocent, And Tyranny is balked of her desire: Up, down, the busy Thames -- rapid as fire Coursing a train of gunpowder -- it went, And transport finds in every street a vent, Till the whole City rings like one vast quire. The Fathers urge the People to be still, With outstretched hands and earnest speech -- in vain! Yea, many, haply wont to entertain Small reverence for the mitre's offices, And to Religion's self no friendly will, A Prelate's blessing ask on bended knees. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DESERT FLOWERS by KEITH CASTELLAINE DOUGLAS A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE THE COMMONPLACE by WALT WHITMAN TO ONE WHO ASKS by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS SATIRE: 4 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS |