THE LAST REVOLUTION.
Hurrah! the mob is up again!
I hear its distant rush and roar,
Like mad 'seas surging on the shore;
But this sea shall not surge in vain.
Shout, bondsmen all, for freedom's reign—
Hurrah!
I hear its distant rush and roar,
Like mad 'seas surging on the shore;
But this sea shall not surge in vain.
Shout, bondsmen all, for freedom's reign—
Hurrah!
A thousand, thousand hurrying feet,
Resistless, heedless, trampling by:
From the black East a shrieking cry;
The sound flies fast, the winds are fleet;
Hurrah! this liberty is sweet.
Hurrah!
Resistless, heedless, trampling by:
From the black East a shrieking cry;
The sound flies fast, the winds are fleet;
Hurrah! this liberty is sweet.
Hurrah!
Hark! is't the roar of cannonades?
A sullen thunder from afar—
The grim, exulting psalm of war,
When deep in blood the victor wades:
No! 'tis the crashing barricades.
Hurrah!
A sullen thunder from afar—
The grim, exulting psalm of war,
When deep in blood the victor wades:
No! 'tis the crashing barricades.
Hurrah!