Digital Tradition Mirror

The Swinish Multitude

The Swinish Multitude

Give me the man whose dauntless soul
Oppressions's threats defires
And bids, though tyrant's thunders roll
The sun of freedom rise
Who laughs at all the conjured storms
State sorcery  waked 'round
At power in all its varying forms
A title's empty sound

Hail ye friends united here
In virtue's sacred ties
May you like virtue's self keep clear
Of pensioners and spies
May you by Bastilles ne'er appalled
See nature's right renewed
Nor longer unavenged be called
The swinish multitude


Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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