Classic Poem

There is hope on the banks of the Danube,
There is hope in the grand tintamar
Of cannon, and music, and clangor
Where Sultan encounters with Czar;
There is hope where the sway of the Tartar
Is swept down the bloody Hoang;
There is hope for the Isles of the Morning
In Liberty's bugle-twang:
— Down, down with the Autocrat!
Hurra for the Democrat! —
Is Liberty's bugle-twang.

The blood that has flowed from old heroes
And settled in Lord, Prince, or Don
Shall be fetched to the level of manhood
As the current of Freedom rolls on;
For the world groweth weary of nobles,
Who mourn when the people rejoice,
Rejoice when the people are mourning,
And shudder at Liberty's voice:
— Down, down with the Aristocrat!
Hurra for the Democrat! —
Is Liberty's righteous voice.

Yet it were but a change of oppressors
To fly from Blue Blood to the Burse —
From the Aristocrat's power of birthright
To the Plutocrat's power of purse;
But all, they shall all be down-stricken!
The thunder is in the sky;
It waits but for Truth's invocation,
It waits but for Liberty's cry:
— Down, down with the Plutocrat!
Hurra for the Democrat! —
And this shall be Liberty's cry.

The Autocrat rushes to ruin,
The Aristocrat waxes old,
And mind, in Democracy's balance,
Shall weigh down the Plutocrat's gold.
In the turmoil of mad revolutions —
Mobocracy's chaos of wrong —
A firm world of order is forming,
That shall to fair Freedom belong:
Down, down with the Mobocrat!
Hurra for the Democrat!
And the world shall to Freedom belong!