P. B. Shelley (1974)

From the Special 300th issue of The Western Socialist

`'Tis to work and have such pay,  

As just keeps life from day to day

In your limbs, as in a cell

For the tyrants' use to dwell,

`'Tis to hunger for such diet

As the rich man in his riot

Casts to the fat dogs that lie

Surfeiting beneath his eye.

`Rise like Lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number--

Shake your chains to earth like dew

Which in sleep had fallen on you

Ye are many  they are few.

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Hasten on that glorious day

When man on man no more shall prey,

When prophets, priests and kings

Shall be numbered with forgotten things.

 P. B. Shelley