"If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude better than the animating contest of freedom, go home from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or your arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that you were our countrymen."

Saturday, 24 October 2009

Up With It We Will Not Put

 I will stroll the merry way
And jump the hedges first
And I will drink the clear
Clean water for to quench my thirst
And I shall watch the ferry-boats
And they'll get high
On a bluer ocean
Against tomorrow's sky.
And I will never grow so old again
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all misty wet with rain
And I shall drive my chariot
Down your streets and cry
"Hey, it's me, I'm dynamite".


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