X.

With a pace stately and fast,
Over English land he past,
Trampling to a mire of blood
The adoring multitude.

XI.

And a mighty troop around

With their trampling shook the ground, Waving each a bloody sword

For the service of their lord.

XII.

And, with glorious triumph, they
Rode through England, proud and gay,
Drunk as with intoxication

Of the wine of desolation.

XIII.

O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,
Passed the pageant swift and free,
Tearing up, and trampling down,
Till they came to London town.

XIV.

And each dweller, panic-stricken,
Felt his heart with terror sicken,
Hearing the tremendous cry

Of the triumph of Anarchy.

XV.

For with pomp to meet him came,
Clothed in arms like blood and flame,
The hired murderers who did sing,
"Thou art God, and Law, and King.

XVI.

"We have waited, weak and lone, For thy coming, Mighty One!

Our purses are empty, our swords are cold, Give us glory, and blood, and gold."

XVII.

Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,
To the earth their pale brows bowed,
Like a bad prayer not over loud,
Whispering "Thou art Law and God!"

XVIII.

Then all cried with one accord,

"Thou art King, and Law, and Lord;

Anarchy, to thee we bow,

Be thy name made holy now!"

XIX.

And Anarchy, the skeleton,
Bowed and grinned to every one,
As well as if his education

Had cost ten millions to the nation.

XX.

For he knew the palaces

Of our kings were nightly his;

His the sceptre, crown, and globe,
And the gold-inwoven robe.

XXI.

So he sent his slaves before

To seize upon the Bank and Tower,
And was proceeding with intent
To meet his pensioned parliament,

XXII.

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:

XXIII.

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

XXIV.

He has had child after child,
And the dust of death is piled
Over every one but me.
Misery! oh, misery!"

XXV.

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

XXVI.

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

XXVII.

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,

XXVIII.

It grew, a shape arrayed in mail
Brighter than the viper's scale,
And upborne on wings whose grain
Was like the light of sunny rain.

XXIX.

On its helm, seen far away,

A planet, like the morning's, lay;
And those plumes it light rained through,
Like a shower of crimson dew.

XXX.

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

XXXI.

As flowers beneath May's footsteps 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

XXXII.

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

XXXIII.

And Anarchy, the ghastly birth,
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.

XXXIV.

A rushing light of clouds and splendor,
A sense, awakening and yet tender,
Was heard and felt-and at its close
These words of joy and fear arose: