Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DEMOS THE DESPOT, by EDGAR LEE MASTERS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Not in the circus before your thumbs inverted Last Line: The frog marsh and the weedy plain! | ||||||||
Not in the circus before your thumbs inverted, Demos, the despot, do we stand; But amid the swarming half-born girted, And amid the idiot millions who command Have we our freedom re-asserted -- Rule us you cannot, though you rule the land. Frederick and Charles and Philip the misbegotten Destroyed the body with fagots and with fetters, Until the finger magic of movable letters Choked them out of a world that they made rotten With blood and corpses. But, O Demos, you Plague us with dwarfs that trip us, run and hide; Foul us with frogs that froth our ancient wine; Scourge us with locusts, and with snakes that twine, And hiss but do not kill. With lice subdue Our patience, and our time divide In seeking the favored hour. And then you say: Have you not freedom, pray? Do you not think and print? You do not bleed For freedom's sake! You do not die at once. And if you starve, have you not had your way? We let you print, but do we have to read? Or suffer what you print to be displayed? What you call liberty affronts Our white-frog breasts, the laws we made. All rightful rights remain. Neglect and want shall be your ball and chain If you trespass our rules -- In other times you would be burned or slain! Such being the freedom that you grant, O Demos, Our olden task is this: we fire the rushes Of yesteryear, and beat with sticks of truth The little snakes and dwarfs that hide in bushes; Drain the dead water, set exhilarant youth With ploughs upon the musty marsh to turn The scum and green decay, and chase the frogs. Then after we cut and drain and burn All will be sweet and clean awhile. But soon the weeds and crawlers will defile Our labor. Then the demagogues Will lead the chorus of the frogs: This is the land, this is the field This is the age of freedom, long revealed. This is the age most blest, This is the country freest, best, This is the country that fulfills Ancient hope and prophecy, This is the age, this is the land, The land, the age, the realm most free.... Then in that hour we shall be dancing, And feasting with new gods upon the hills; And graving images of lovelier Beauty; And building altars of a purer Duty; And singing rituals of a deeper Faith. And living life, and facing death As fairer gods would have us. And for you O frogs, the fated sharers Of all we dream and do, We the dreamers, the preparers, Shall then be gathering strength to burn Bushes and plow again The frog marsh and the weedy plain! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: FLETCHER MCGEE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: GEORGE GRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MINERVA JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DAVIS MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DORA WILLIAMS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EMILY SPARKS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LAMBERT HUTCHINS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LYMAN KING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. KESSLER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SARAH BROWN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: STATE'S ATTORNEY FALLAS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |
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