The Mask of Anarchy:
      Written on the Occasion of the Massacre at Manchester
      Percy Bysshe Shelley
      This is a text prepared for teaching purposes, derived from the edition published
         					digitally in Stuart Curran and Jack
         							Lynch, Frankenstein: or the Modern
            							Prometheus: Works Included in this
            							edition, 1994: http://knarf.english.upenn.edu/PShelley/anarchy.html.
      
      This edition was prepared in TEI, the language of the Text Encoding Initiative and transformed to HTML for reading on the web. View this poem in TEI XML.
      
      		
      			
      
         				1
         				
         1As I lay asleep in Italy
         
         				
         2There came a voice from over the Sea,
         
         				
         3And with great power it forth led me
         
         				
         4To walk in the visions of Poesy.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				2
         				
         5I met Murder on the way—
         
         				
         6He had a mask like Castlereagh—
         
         				
         7Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
         
         				
         8Seven blood-hounds followed him:
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				3
         				
         9All were fat; and well they might
         
         				
         10Be in admirable plight,
         
         				
         11For one by one, and two by two,
         
         				
         12He tossed them human hearts to chew
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				4
         				
         13Which from his wide cloak he drew.
         
         				
         14Next came Fraud, and he had on,
         
         				
         15Like Eldon, an ermined gown;
         
         				
         16His big tears, for he wept well,
         
         				
         17Turned to mill-stones as they fell.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				5
         				
         18And the little children, who
         
         				
         19Round his feet played to and fro,
         
         				
         20Thinking every tear a gem,
         
         				
         21Had their brains knocked out by them.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				6
         				
         22Clothed with the Bible, as with light,
         
         				
         23And the shadows of the night,
         
         				
         24Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy
         
         				
         25On a crocodile rode by.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				7
         				
         26And many more Destructions played
         
         				
         27In this ghastly masquerade,
         
         				
         28All disguised, even to the eyes,
         
         				
         29Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				8
         				
         30Last came Anarchy: he rode
         
         				
         31On a white horse, splashed with blood;
         
         				
         32He was pale even to the lips,
         
         				
         33Like Death in the Apocalypse.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				9
         				
         34And he wore a kingly crown;
         
         				
         35And in his grasp a sceptre shone;
         
         				
         36On his brow this mark I saw—
         
         				
         37
            					I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!
            				
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				10
         				
         38With a pace stately and fast,
         
         				
         39Over English land he passed,
         
         				
         40Trampling to a mire of blood
         
         				
         41The adoring multitude.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				11
         				
         42And a mighty troop around,
         
         				
         43With their trampling shook the ground,
         
         				
         44Waving each a bloody sword,
         
         				
         45For the service of their Lord.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				12
         				
         46And with glorious triumph, they
         
         				
         47Rode through England proud and gay,
         
         				
         48Drunk as with intoxication
         
         				
         49Of the wine of desolation.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				13
         				
         50O’er fields and towns, from sea to sea,
         
         				
         51Passed the Pageant swift and free,
         
         				
         52Tearing up, and trampling down;
         
         				
         53Till they came to London town.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				14
         				
         54And each dweller, panic-stricken,
         
         				
         55Felt his heart with terror sicken
         
         				
         56Hearing the tempestuous cry
         
         				
         57Of the triumph of Anarchy.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				15
         				
         58For with pomp to meet him came,
         
         				
         59Clothed in arms like blood and flame,
         
         				
         60The hired murderers, who did sing
         
         				
         61“Thou art God, and Law, and King.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				16
         				
         62We have waited, weak and lone
         
         				
         63For thy coming, Mighty One!
         
         				
         64Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,
         
         				
         65Give us glory, and blood, and gold.”
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				17
         				
         66Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,
         
         				
         67To the earth their pale brows bowed;
         
         				
         68Like a bad prayer not over loud,
         
         				
         69Whispering — Thou art Law and God. —
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				18
         				
         70Then all cried with one accord,
         
         				
         71“Thou art King, and God, and Lord;
         
         				
         72Anarchy, to thee we bow,
         
         				
         73Be thy name made holy now!”
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				19
         				
         74And Anarchy, the Skeleton,
         
         				
         75Bowed and grinned to every one,
         
         				
         76As well as if his education
         
         				
         77Had cost ten millions to the nation.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				20
         				
         78For he knew the Palaces
         
         				
         79Of our Kings were rightly his;
         
         				
         80His the sceptre, crown, and globe,
         
         				
         81And the gold-inwoven robe.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				21
         				
         82So he sent his slaves before
         
         				
         83To seize upon the Bank and Tower,
         
         				
         84And was proceeding with intent
         
         				
         85To meet his pensioned Parliament
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				22
         				
         86When one fled past, a maniac maid,
         
         				
         87And her name was Hope, she said:
         
         				
         88But she looked more like Despair,
         
         				
         89And she cried out in the air:
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				23
         				
         90“My father Time is weak and gray
         
         				
         91With waiting for a better day;
         
         				
         92See how idiot-like he stands,
         
         				
         93Fumbling with his palsied hands!
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				24
         				
         94“He has had child after child,
         
         				
         95And the dust of death is piled
         
         				
         96Over every one but me—
         
         				
         97Misery, oh, Misery!”
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				25
         				
         98Then she lay down in the street,
         
         				
         99Right before the horses’ feet,
         
         				
         100Expecting, with a patient eye,
         
         				
         101Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				26
         				
         102When between her and her foes
         
         				
         103A mist, a light, an image rose,
         
         				
         104Small at first, and weak, and frail
         
         				
         105Like the vapour of a vale:
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				27
         				
         106Till as clouds grow on the blast,
         
         				
         107Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,
         
         				
         108And glare with lightnings as they fly,
         
         				
         109And speak in thunder to the sky,
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				28
         				
         110It grew — a Shape arrayed in mail
         
         				
         111Brighter than the viper’s scale,
         
         				
         112And upborne on wings whose grain
         
         				
         113Was as the light of sunny rain.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				29
         				
         114On its helm, seen far away,
         
         				
         115A planet, like the Morning’s, lay;
         
         				
         116And those plumes its light rained through
         
         				
         117Like a shower of crimson dew.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				30
         				
         118With step as soft as wind it passed
         
         				
         119O’er the heads of men — so fast
         
         				
         120That they knew the presence there,
         
         				
         121And looked, — but all was empty air.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				31
         				
         122As flowers beneath May’s footstep waken,
         
         				
         123As stars from Night’s loose hair are shaken,
         
         				
         124As waves arise when loud winds call,
         
         				
         125Thoughts sprung where’er that step did fall.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				32
         				
         126And the prostrate multitude
         
         				
         127Looked — and ankle-deep in blood,
         
         				
         128Hope, that maiden most serene,
         
         				
         129Was walking with a quiet mien:
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				33
         				
         130And Anarchy, the ghastly birth,
         
         				
         131Lay dead earth upon the earth;
         
         				
         132The Horse of Death tameless as wind
         
         				
         133Fled, and with his hoofs did grind
         
         				
         134To dust the murderers thronged behind.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				34
         				
         135A rushing light of clouds and splendour,
         
         				
         136A sense awakening and yet tender
         
         				
         137Was heard and felt — and at its close
         
         				
         138These words of joy and fear arose
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				35
         				
         139As if their own indignant Earth
         
         				
         140Which gave the sons of England birth
         
         				
         141Had felt their blood upon her brow,
         
         				
         142And shuddering with a mother’s throe
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				36
         				
         143Had turnè;d every drop of blood
         
         				
         144By which her face had been bedewed
         
         				
         145To an accent unwithstood,—
         
         				
         146As if her heart had cried aloud:
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				37
         				
         147“Men of England, heirs of Glory,
         
         				
         148Heroes of unwritten story,
         
         				
         149Nurslings of one mighty Mother,
         
         				
         150Hopes of her, and one another;
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				38
         				
         151“Rise like Lions after slumber
         
         				
         152In unvanquishable number,
         
         				
         153Shake your chains to earth like dew
         
         				
         154Which in sleep had fallen on you —
         
         				
         155Ye are many — they are few.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				39
         				
         156“What is Freedom? — ye can tell
         
         				
         157That which slavery is, too well —
         
         				
         158For its very name has grown
         
         				
         159To an echo of your own.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				40
         				
         160“’Tis to work and have such pay
         
         				
         161As just keeps life from day to day
         
         				
         162In your limbs, as in a cell
         
         				
         163For the tyrants’ use to dwell,
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				41
         				
         164“So that ye for them are made
         
         				
         165Loom, and plough, and sword, and spade,
         
         				
         166With or without your own will bent
         
         				
         167To their defence and nourishment.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				42
         				
         168“’Tis to see your children weak
         
         				
         169With their mothers pine and peak,
         
         				
         170When the winter winds are bleak,—
         
         				
         171They are dying whilst I speak.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				43
         				
         172“’Tis to hunger for such diet
         
         				
         173As the rich man in his riot
         
         				
         174Casts to the fat dogs that lie
         
         				
         175Surfeiting beneath his eye;
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				44
         				
         176“’Tis to let the Ghost of Gold
         
         				
         177Take from Toil a thousandfold
         
         				
         178More than e’er its substance could
         
         				
         179In the tyrannies of old.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				45
         				
         180“Paper coin — that forgery
         
         				
         181Of the title-deeds, which ye
         
         				
         182Hold to something of the worth
         
         				
         183Of the inheritance of Earth.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				46
         				
         184“’Tis to be a slave in soul
         
         				
         185And to hold no strong control
         
         				
         186Over your own wills, but be
         
         				
         187All that others make of ye.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				47
         				
         188“And at length when ye complain
         
         				
         189With a murmur weak and vain
         
         				
         190’Tis to see the Tyrant’s crew
         
         				
         191Ride over your wives and you—
         
         				
         192Blood is on the grass like dew.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				48
         				
         193“Then it is to feel revenge
         
         				
         194Fiercely thirsting to exchange
         
         				
         195Blood for blood — and wrong for wrong —
         
         				
         196Do not thus when ye are strong.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				49
         				
         197“Birds find rest, in narrow nest
         
         				
         198When weary of their wingè;d quest;
         
         				
         199Beasts find fare, in woody lair
         
         				
         200When storm and snow are in the air,1The following stanza is found in the Wise MS and in Mary Shelley's edition
                  					of 1839, but is wanting in the Hunt MS and
 in the first edition of 1832:
                  					“Horses, oxen, have a home,
                     						When from daily toil they come;
                     						Household dogs, when the wind roars,
                     						Find a home within warm doors.”
                  				
         			
       
      			
      			
      
         				50
         				
         201“Asses, swine, have litter spread
         
         				
         202And with fitting food are fed;
         
         				
         203All things have a home but one—
         
         				
         204Thou, Oh, Englishman, hast none!
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				51
         				
         205“This is Slavery — savage men,
         
         				
         206Or wild beasts within a den
         
         				
         207Would endure not as ye do—
         
         				
         208But such ills they never knew.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				52
         				
         209“What art thou Freedom? O! could slaves
         
         				
         210Answer from their living graves
         
         				
         211This demand — tyrants would flee
         
         				
         212Like a dream’s dim imagery:
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				53
         				
         213“Thou art not, as impostors say,
         
         				
         214A shadow soon to pass away,
         
         				
         215A superstition, and a name
         
         				
         216Echoing from the cave of Fame.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				54
         				
         217“For the labourer thou art bread,
         
         				
         218And a comely table spread
         
         				
         219From his daily labour come
         
         				
         220In a neat and happy home.
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				55
         				
         221“Thou art clothes, and fire, and food
         
         				
         222For the trampled multitude—
         
         				
         223No — in countries that are free
         
         				
         224Such starvation cannot be
         
         				
         225As in England now we see.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				56
         				
         226“To the rich thou art a check,
         
         				
         227When his foot is on the neck
         
         				
         228Of his victim, thou dost make
         
         				
         229That he treads upon a snake.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				57
         				
         230“Thou art Justice — ne’er for gold
         
         				
         231May thy righteous laws be sold
         
         				
         232As laws are in England — thou
         
         				
         233Shield’st alike the high and low.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				58
         				
         234“Thou art Wisdom — Freemen never
         
         				
         235Dream that God will damn for ever
         
         				
         236All who think those things untrue
         
         				
         237Of which Priests make such ado.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				59
         				
         238“Thou art Peace — never by thee
         
         				
         239Would blood and treasure wasted be
         
         				
         240As tyrants wasted them, when all
         
         				
         241Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				60
         				
         242“What if English toil and blood
         
         				
         243Was poured forth, even as a flood?
         
         				
         244It availed, Oh, Liberty,
         
         				
         245To dim, but not extinguish thee.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				61
         				
         246“Thou art Love — the rich have kissed
         
         				
         247Thy feet, and like him following Christ,
         
         				
         248Give their substance to the free
         
         				
         249And through the rough world follow thee,
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				62
         				
         250“Or turn their wealth to arms, and make
         
         				
         251War for thy belovè;d sake
         
         				
         252On wealth, and war, and fraud—whence they
         
         				
         253 Drew the power which is their prey.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				63
         				
         254“Science, Poetry, and Thought
         
         				
         255Are thy lamps; they make the lot
         
         				
         256Of the dwellers in a cot
         
         				
         257So serene, they curse it not.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				64
         				
         258“Spirit, Patience, Gentleness,
         
         				
         259All that can adorn and bless
         
         				
         260Art thou — let deeds, not words, express 
         
         				
         261Thine exceeding loveliness.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				65
         				
         262“Let a great Assembly be
         
         				
         263Of the fearless and the free
         
         				
         264On some spot of English ground
         
         				
         265Where the plains stretch wide around.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				66
         				
         266“Let the blue sky overhead,
         
         				
         267The green earth on which ye tread,
         
         				
         268All that must eternal be
         
         				
         269Witness the solemnity.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				67
         				
         270“From the corners uttermost
         
         				
         271Of the bonds of English coast;
         
         				
         272From every hut, village, and town
         
         				
         273Where those who live and suffer moan
         
         				
         274For others’ misery or their own.2The following stanza is found (cancelled) at this
 place in the Wise MS.:
                  					“From the cities where from caves,
                     						Like the dead from putrid graves,
                     						Troops of starvelings gliding come,
                     						Living Tenants of a tomb.”
                  				
         			
       
      			
      			
      
         				68
         				
         275“From the workhouse and the prison
         
         				
         276Where pale as corpses newly risen,
         
         				
         277Women, children, young and old
         
         				
         278Groan for pain, and weep for cold—
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				69
         				
         279“From the haunts of daily life
         
         				
         280Where is waged the daily strife
         
         				
         281With common wants and common cares
         
         				
         282Which sows the human heart with tares—
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				70
         				
         283“Lastly from the palaces
         
         				
         284Where the murmur of distress
         
         				
         285Echoes, like the distant sound
         
         				
         286Of a wind alive around
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				71
         				
         287“Those prison halls of wealth and fashion,
         
         				
         288Where some few feel such compassion
         
         				
         289For those who groan, and toil, and wail
         
         				
         290As must make their brethren pale—
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				72
         				
         291“Ye who suffer woes untold,
         
         				
         292Or to feel, or to behold
         
         				
         293Your lost country bought and sold
         
         				
         294With a price of blood and gold—
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				73
         				
         295“Let a vast assembly be,
         
         				
         296And with great solemnity
         
         				
         297Declare with measured words that ye
         
         				
         298Are, as God has made ye, free—
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				74
         				
         299“Be your strong and simple words
         
         				
         300Keen to wound as sharpened swords,
         
         				
         301And wide as targes let them be,
         
         				
         302With their shade to cover ye.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				75
         				
         303“Let the tyrants pour around
         
         				
         304With a quick and startling sound,
         
         				
         305Like the loosening of a sea,
         
         				
         306Troops of armed emblazonry.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				76
         				
         307“Let the charged artillery drive
         
         				
         308Till the dead air seems alive
         
         				
         309With the clash of clanging wheels,
         
         				
         310And the tramp of horses’ heels.
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				77
         				
         311“Let the fixè;d bayonet
         
         				
         312Gleam with sharp desire to wet
         
         				
         313Its bright point in English blood
         
         				
         314Looking keen as one for food.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				78
         				
         315“Let the horsemen’s scimitars
         
         				
         316Wheel and flash, like sphereless stars
         
         				
         317Thirsting to eclipse their burning
         
         				
         318In a sea of death and mourning.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				79
         				
         319“Stand ye calm and resolute,
         
         				
         320Like a forest close and mute,
         
         				
         321With folded arms and looks which are
         
         				
         322Weapons of unvanquished war,
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				80
         				
         323“And let Panic, who outspeeds
         
         				
         324The career of armè;d steeds
         
         				
         325Pass, a disregarded shade
         
         				
         326Through your phalanx undismayed.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				81
         				
         327“Let the laws of your own land,
         
         				
         328Good or ill, between ye stand
         
         				
         329Hand to hand, and foot to foot,
         
         				
         330Arbiters of the dispute,
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				82
         				
         331“The old laws of England — they
         
         				
         332Whose reverend heads with age are gray,
         
         				
         333Children of a wiser day;
         
         				
         334And whose solemn voice must be
         
         				
         335Thine own echo — Liberty!
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				83
         				
         336“On those who first should violate
         
         				
         337Such sacred heralds in their state
         
         				
         338Rest the blood that must ensue,
         
         				
         339And it will not rest on you.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				84
         				
         340“And if then the tyrants dare
         
         				
         341Let them ride among you there,
         
         				
         342Slash, and stab, and maim, and hew,—
         
         				
         343What they like, that let them do.
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				85
         				
         344“With folded arms and steady eyes,
         
         				
         345And little fear, and less surprise,
         
         				
         346Look upon them as they slay
         
         				
         347Till their rage has died away.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				86
         				
         348“Then they will return with shame
         
         				
         349To the place from which they came,
         
         				
         350And the blood thus shed will speak
         
         				
         351In hot blushes on their cheek.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				87
         				
         352 “Every woman in the land
         
         				
         353Will point at them as they stand—
         
         				
         354They will hardly dare to greet
         
         				
         355Their acquaintance in the street.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				88
         				
         356“And the bold, true warriors
         
         				
         357Who have hugged Danger in wars
         
         				
         358Will turn to those who would be free,
         
         				
         359Ashamed of such base company.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				89
         				
         360“And that slaughter to the Nation
         
         				
         361Shall steam up like inspiration,
         
         				
         362Eloquent, oracular;
         
         				
         363A volcano heard afar.
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				90
         				
         364“And these words shall then become
         
         				
         365Like Oppression’s thundered doom
         
         				
         366Ringing through each heart and brain,
         
         				
         367Heard again — again — again—
         
         
         			
       
      			
      
         				91
         				
         368“Rise like Lions after slumber
         
         				
         369In unvanquishable number—
         
         				
         370Shake your chains to earth like dew
         
         				
         371Which in sleep had fallen on you—
         
         				
         372Ye are many — they are few.”