Poem by William S. Villiers Sankey

Ode

Men of England, ye are slaves,
Though ye quell the roaring waves — 
Though ye boast, by land and sea, 
Britons everywhere are free.

Men of England, ye are slaves, 
Bought by tyrants, sold by knaves; 
Your’s the toil, the sweat, the pain, 
Their’s the profit, ease and gain.

Men of England, ye are slaves, 
Beaten by policemen’s staves; 
If their force ye dare repel, 
Your’s will be the felon’s cell.

Men of England, ye are slaves; 
Ev’n the House of Commons craves 
From the Crown, on bended knee, 
That its language may be free.

Men of England, ye are slaves — 
Hark! the stormy tempest raves — 
’Tis the nation’s voice I hear, 
Shouting “Liberty is near.”

Ralph Emerson Ode ("Though loath to grieve")

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