Classic Poem

The ancient tyranny is with us still,
With duller costume but with stronger hands;
A newer jargon masks the old commands;
The Bastille looms no more—but there's the mill
Shelley abhorred the priests; the priests are dead,
But journals lie to us of other things,
And merchants rule as certainly as kings,
Drinking sweet wine, throwing us crumbs of bread

Then what have we, however words may shift—
Lovers of light and freedom, what have we
To do with lords, whatever lords they be,
Crowned or uncrowned, when we have still to lift
On high the golden banners of romance,
And wake the world to freedom with our chants!