From the workhouse and the prison,
Where pale as corpses newly risen,
Women, children, young, and old,
Groan for pain, and weep for cold;
Rise like lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number!
Shake your chains to earth, like dew
Which in sleep had fall'n on you:
And if then the tyrants dare,
Let them ride among you there;
Slash, and stab, and maim, and hew;
What they like, that let them do
And these words shall then become
Like Oppression's thundered doom,
Ringing through each heart and brain,
Heard again--again--again.
Rise like lions
Shake your chains
YE ARE MANY-THEY ARE FEW.
-Percy Bysshe Shelley (from “The Masque of Anarchy”, 1819)
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