WEEP, weep, weep and weep, For pauper, dolt, and slave! Hark! from wasted moor and fen Feverous alley, stifling den, Swells the wail of Saxon men -- Work! or the grave! Down, down, down and down With idler, knave, and tyrant! Why for sluggards cark and moil? He that will not live by toil Has no right on English soil! God's word's our warrant! Up, up, up and up! Face your game and play it! The night is past, behold the sun! The idols fall, the lie is done! The Judge is set, the doom begun! Who shall stay it? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FETES GALANTES: ROMANCES SANS PAROLE, SELECTION by PAUL VERLAINE EXCELSIOR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET: DANTE (1) by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI SIR LANCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING PALACE by ALFRED TENNYSON |