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Then all cried with one accord, _70
'Thou art King, and God, and Lord;
Anarchy, to thee we bow,
Be thy name made holy now! '

19.
And Anarchy, the Skeleton,
Bowed and grinned to every one, _75
As well as if his education
Had cost ten millions to the nation.

20.
For he knew the Palaces
Of our Kings were rightly his;
His the sceptre, crown, and globe, _80
And the gold-inwoven robe.

21.
So he sent his slaves before
To seize upon the Bank and Tower,
And was proceeding with intent
To meet his pensioned Parliament _85

22.
When one fled past, a maniac maid,
And her name was Hope, she said:
But she looked more like Despair,
And she cried out in the air:

23.
'My father Time is weak and gray _90
With waiting for a better day;
See how idiot-like he stands,
Fumbling with his palsied hands!

24.
'He has had child after child,
And the dust of death is piled _95
Over every one but me--
Misery, oh, Misery! '

25.
Then she lay down in the street,
Right before the horses' feet,
Expecting, with a patient eye, _100
Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy.

26.
When between her and her foes
A mist, a light, an image rose,
Small at first, and weak, and frail
Like the vapour of a vale: _105

27.
Till as clouds grow on the blast,
Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,
And glare with lightnings as they fly,
And speak in thunder to the sky,

28.
It grew--a Shape arrayed in mail _110
Brighter than the viper's scale,
And upborne on wings whose grain
Was as the light of sunny rain.

29.
On its helm, seen far away,
A planet, like the Morning's, lay; _115
And those plumes its light rained through
Like a shower of crimson dew.

30.
With step as soft as wind it passed
O'er the heads of men--so fast
That they knew the presence there, _120
And looked,--but all was empty air.

31.
As flowers beneath May's footstep waken,
As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken,
As waves arise when loud winds call,
Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall. _125

32.
And the prostrate multitude
Looked--and ankle-deep in blood,
Hope, that maiden most serene,
Was walking with a quiet mien:

33.
And Anarchy, the ghastly birth, _130
Lay dead earth upon the earth;
The Horse of Death tameless as wind
Fled, and with his hoofs did grind
To dust the murderers thronged behind.

34.
A rushing light of clouds and splendour, _135
A sense awakening and yet tender
Was heard and felt--and at its close
These words of joy and fear arose

35.
As if their own indignant Earth
Which gave the sons of England birth _140
Had felt their blood upon her brow,
And shuddering with a mother's throe

36.
Had turned every drop of blood
By which her face had been bedewed
To an accent unwithstood,-- _145
As if her heart had cried aloud:

37.
'Men of England, heirs of Glory,
Heroes of unwritten story,
Nurslings of one mighty Mother,
Hopes of her, and one another; _150

38.