I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did groan
To think that a most unambitious slave,
Like thou, shouldst dance and revel on the grave
Of Liberty. Thou mightst have built thy throne
Where it had stood even now: thou didst prefer
A frail and bloody pomp which Time has swept
In fragments towards Oblivion. Massacre,
For this I prayed, would on thy sleep have crept,
Treason and Slavery, Rapine, Fear, and Lust,
And stifled thee, their minister. I know
Too late, since thou and France are in the dust,
That Virtue owns a more eternal foe
Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime,
And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.
(Percy Bysshe Shelley)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Fear Poems, Law & Regulation Poems, Liberty & Freedom Poems, Slavery Poems, Crime Poems, Tyranny & Despotism Poems, Rebellion Poems, Custom & Convention PoemsBased on Keywords: mightst, foulest, rapine, unambitious