BALLADE OF THE TYRANNY OF A
COMMERCIAL EMPIRE
IT is a funny thing
That now and then we see,
A poor and harmless king
A-getting up a tree
As fast as he can flee ;
Much faster than his liking ;
And you explain to me—
“ That’s Freedom’s Eagle striking!”
A poet cannot sing
When lofty liberty
Conceals beneath her wing
Such lots of misery.
Though labourers drink tea
And all the girls are biking,
I’m not so sure that we
See Freedom’s Eagle striking!
Philosophers may bring
Their logic—I may be
A fool or anything
An out-of-date, a he
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