30
Songs of the Army of the Night.
For those to whom you gave their daily bread
Rancid with God-loathed "charity," their drink
Putrid with man-loathed "sin," we bow our head
Grateful, as the great hearse goes by, and think.
Yes, you have fed the flesh and starved the souls
Of thousands of us; you have taught too well
The Rich are little gods beyond control,
Save of your big God of the heaven and hell.
We thank you. This was pretty once, and right.
Now it wears rather thin. My lord, good night!
"LIBERTY!"
"Liberty?" Is that the cry, then?
We have heard it oft of yore.
Once it had, we think a meaning;
Let us hear it now no more.
We have heard it oft of yore.
Once it had, we think a meaning;
Let us hear it now no more.
We have read what history tells us
Of its heroes, martyrs too.
Doubtless they were very splendid,
But they're not for me and you.
Of its heroes, martyrs too.
Doubtless they were very splendid,
But they're not for me and you.
There were Greeks who fought and perished,
Won from Persians deathless graves.
Had we lived then, we're aware that
We'd have been those same Greeks' slaves!
Won from Persians deathless graves.
Had we lived then, we're aware that
We'd have been those same Greeks' slaves!
Then a Roman came who loved us;
Cæsar gave men tongues and swords.
Crying "Liberty," they fought him,
Cato and his wild-beast lords.
Cæsar gave men tongues and swords.
Crying "Liberty," they fought him,
Cato and his wild-beast lords.
When he'd give a broader franchise,
Lift the mangled nations bowed,
Crying "Liberty!" they killed him,
Brutus and his cut-throat crowd.
Lift the mangled nations bowed,
Crying "Liberty!" they killed him,
Brutus and his cut-throat crowd.
