52.
‘What art thou Freedom? O! could slaves
Answer from their living graves _210
This demand—tyrants would flee
Like a dream’s dim imagery:
53.
‘Thou art not, as impostors say,
A shadow soon to pass away,
A superstition, and a name _215
Echoing from the cave of Fame.
54.
‘For the labourer thou art bread,
And a comely table spread
From his daily labour come
In a neat and happy home. _220
55.
Thou art clothes, and fire, and food
For the trampled multitude—
No—in countries that are free
Such starvation cannot be
As in England now we see. _225
56.
‘To the rich thou art a check,
When his foot is on the neck
Of his victim, thou dost make
That he treads upon a snake.
57.
Thou art Justice—ne’er for gold _230
May thy righteous laws be sold
As laws are in England—thou
Shield’st alike the high and low.
58.
‘Thou art Wisdom—Freemen never
Dream that God will damn for ever _235
All who think those things untrue
Of which Priests make such ado.
59.
‘Thou art Peace—never by thee
Would blood and treasure wasted be
As tyrants wasted them, when all _240
Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.
60.
‘What if English toil and blood
Was poured forth, even as a flood?
It availed, Oh, Liberty,
To dim, but not extinguish thee. _245
61.
‘Thou art Love—the rich have kissed
Thy feet, and like him following Christ,
Give their substance to the free
And through the rough world follow thee,