The Song Of Rebellion (Benjamin Musser Poems)
I am the Song of Rebellion.Murmuring in breasts of Grecian galley slaves,Sobbing in parched throats of pyramid hewers and builders,Rankling ...
I am the Song of Rebellion.Murmuring in breasts of Grecian galley slaves,Sobbing in parched throats of pyramid hewers and builders,Rankling ...
I stood in a princely hall, and where Round me gather'd the brave and fair, Music in softest ...
Whene'er I read some savage tale Of punishment devisedBy tyrants in an olden day, When serfs were victimised,I reverently tell ...
You are but millions. Our unnumbered nationsAre as the sands upon the sounding shore.We are the Scythians! We are the ...
The unsoiled hand, the sleek, black coat, The senile, ledger-haunted hours,The knowledge that my freeman's vote Is humbly cast to ...
She has sunken again into slavery's tomb, Like a thunderbolt quenching itself in the sea;And deeply and darkly engraved is ...
Ay, shout! 'Tis the day of your pride,Ye despots and tyrants of earth! Tell your serfs the American name to ...
God has been good to men. He gaveHis Only Son their souls to save,And then he made a second gift,Which ...
Enlaced with gardened jewelryMy basking villas nestWhere sifted sunshine soothes the eyeAnd cosy hillocks rest.Convention's fronds here screen from viewImmodest ...
My dust in ruined Babylon Is blown along the level plain, And songs of mine at dawn have soared Above ...
Yea, art thou lord, O Man, since Tubal Cain Brought me into being, white and torn with pain-- Wrung me, ...
What though the foe exultant carouses in the keep,His hirelings on the parapets to jeer our pennants torn?The fight began ...
FROM him did forty million serfs, endow'dEach with six feet of death-due soil, receiveRich freeborn lifelong land, whereon to sheaveTheir ...
et plus profonde, ou l'interet et l'avarice parlent moins haut que la raison, dans les instants de chagrin domestique, de ...
Armed of the gods! Divinest conqueror! What soundless hosts are thine! Nor pomp, nor state, Nor token, to betray where ...
The Lamp burns sure -- within -- Tho' Serfs -- supply the Oil -- It matters not the busy Wick ...
Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget; For we are the people of England, that ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
We couldn't sit and study for the law; The stagnation of a bank we couldn't stand; For our riot blood ...
(After Pushkin) Look at the bare wood hand-waxed floor and long White dressing-gown, the good child's writing-desk And passionate cold ...
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