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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381466" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Vive Anarchy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">With the lifting of the curtain, <br>Distance, dim, but grimly certain, <br>Breaks my vision of a city, populous and great, <br>To my senses, sorrow-sated, <br>Senses sad and satiated, Faintly comes the thunder peal of treasured wrong and hate <br> Broken down, <br> Beaten down, <br>By awakened people and the iron arm of Fate. <br>Pallid forms, by famine shrunken, <br>Helots, harlots, ribald, drunken, <br>Wine and blood-wet, onward thro' the torchlit highways sweep, <br>Through a city disunited, <br>Through a city flame ignited, <br>To the sound of song and trumpet and the cannon's deep <br> Distant boom, <br> Through the gloom, <br>While the fire fiends madly leaps from tower to temple steep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Reinforced from slum and alley, <br>By this wild and weird reveille, <br>Pours the army of the people where their banners drape, <br>In a city barricaded, <br>In a city fusilladed <br>By the deadly rifle and the Gatling and the grape, <br> Crashing down, <br> Smashing down <br>Lanes and alleys filthy, and the foul abode of rape. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tyrants flee and cowards falter-, <br>For a lamp-post and a halter <br>Wait for every tyrant at the corner of the street, <br>In the hour of retribution, <br>In the night of revolution, <br>When on common ground the tyrant and the helot meet, <br> Endless wrongs, <br> Countless wrongs, <br>Burning in the helot's bosom - fanned to fever heat. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let the tyrant beg no pity- <br>His the palace, his the city, <br>His the silken raiment and the costly food and wine; <br>Ours the forms emaciated, <br>Of the women violated, <br>Ours the endless torture in the workshop and the mine; <br> Hunted down, <br> Hounded down <br>To the level of the felon and the concubine. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">By our women fever-stricken, <br>Where the foetid odours thicken <br>In the homes of hunger, where the children cry for bread; <br>By your soulless apathetic, <br>Scorning of our wrongs pathetic, <br>By the seas of blood and tears by generations shed, <br> Stealing down, <br> Streaming down- <br>Now we ask, with smoking rifle, &quot;vengeance on your head.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Marching on with footsteps steady, <br>Shotted guns and bayonets ready, <br>Goes the army of the people, in the days to be, <br>Through a city barricaded, <br>Through a city fusilladed, <br>Where the discontented masses struggle to be free, <br> Breaking down, <br> Beating down <br>Wrongs of ages to the song of &quot;Long Live Anarchy.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edwin+James+Brady">Edwin James Brady</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381466" data-title="Vive Anarchy de Edwin James Brady" data-description="With the lifting of the curtain, 
Distance, dim, but grimly certain, 
Breaks my vision of a city, populous and great, 
To my senses, sorrow-sated, 
Senses sad and satiated, Faintly comes the thunder peal of treasured wrong and hate 
 Broken down, ..."></div>
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