The Poetical Works of Charles Mackay

VI.

All this thou wert but yestermorn-
Thy fall is freedom's birth;
To-day thou art a mark for scorn,
A vagrant on the earth.
A truth pervading all the lands
Inspired the people's heart,

A WARNING VOICE TO THE PARISIANS.

APRIL, 1848.

BEWARE, O France! to-day,

It throbb'd-it beat-it nerved their Of the dangers in thy way.

hands

In thy majesty and might,
In the splendour of thy Right,

Thou may'st look, with unconcern,
Upon despots, fain to turn

Their swords upon thy bosom free and fair—

Thou may'st view, without alarms,
Hostile monarchies in arms,

And with Justice for thy captain thou may'st dare

All the hate of foreign foes;

Yet, for dangers worse than those Look around thee, young Republic, and beware!

II.

Thou hast overturn'd a throne
That was based on fraud alone;
Thou hast swept in sudden wrath
All its panders from thy path;
Thou hast done a glorious deed,
And immortal be thy meed-
May thy garlands ever flourish green
and fair!

But take heed, and ponder well,
Lest the tyranny that fell

Have not left a worse to follow as its heir.

Unhappy is the land

Where a mob is head and hand: Thou hast known the peril once-oh, beware!

III.

Of the fool of good intent,
With his schemes impertinent;
Of the stubborn theorist;

And the dense philosophist,

Who would mould the world afresh,
And make men of wood-not flesh,
Mathematically modell'd on the square;
Of the false and glib-tongued knave;
Of the sycophantic slave,

Who would lick the wild beast's feet in his lair;

that we bow down

To the sceptre and the crown

That we bend the fawning knee

To a titled luxury;

More wretched far than this

Is to see a people kiss

While you laugh, admire, or pity,
Seeing Nature, and not Árt.
Little think you as ye wonder,
As each enters, struts, retires,
That they are but wooden playthings,
Senseless puppets, moved by wires.

II.

Screen'd from sight, behind the curtain,
Cunning fingers work the show;
At whose touch the unconscious figures
Stand or tumble-come or go.

The mire-bedraggled tatters hanging When hereafter, men and women,

bare

Ye shall mingle in the strife,
Busy actors in the tumult
And perplexity of life-
You will find the world divided
(Or be blinder than your sires)
"Twixt the puppets, great and little,
And the pullers of the wires.

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VII.

Said Anarchy to Liberty,

She mingles with the vilest crowd,
She shouts, and roars, and curses,

'I know thee well, I've known thee Shakes hands with thieves-she is not

long

Thy face, thy form, thy symmetry Have fill'd my heart with yearnings

proud

And gambols with cut-purses.

IV.

She calls herself a goddess bright,
The suffering people's saviour,
Who shows the nations truth and right,
And teaches kings behaviour;
She takes thy name on false pretence,
And signs it to her papers;

And when she lacks the needful pence,
She plays dishonest capers.

Come forth and shame this counterfeit,
Oh, maiden fair and holy;
Oh, Liberty! divinely sweet,
Beloved of high and lowly!

Come forth, thy heavenly charms un fold,

And teach mankind their duty;
And let the adoring world behold
Thine intellectual beauty.

VI.

Though blinded mobs may seek to
slay,

And tyrant monarchs hate thee;
face-Yet all true hearts thine advent pray,
And all the realms await thee.
So fair thou art, so full of grace,
The nations will adore thee;

Come forth, and show thy beaming
The world has learn'd to doubt thee;
Come forth-shed light upon our place;
We cannot live without thee!

II.

A brazen-brow'd and vulgar jade,
Not like thee in a feature,

In thy white robes and wreath array'd-
A coarse-tongued, shameless creature-
Struts o'er the earth, and takes thy
name,

Sows hatred and dissension,

And sanctions deeds of guilt and shame, Which thou wouldst blush to mention.

III.

Not like thyself-an angel sweet, Whose lips would scorn to utter The filthy language of the street, Or bywords of the gutter

And mobs, when they behold thy face, Will bend their knees before thee.

VII.

Come forth; the world expects thou wilt

Long has it waited sadly--
Come forth, and shame this thing of
guilt,

That plays thy part so badly.
Come forth, serene, refulgent, clear,
Th' expectant earth adorning;
And all the cheats shall disappear
Like torchlight in the morning.

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