★ Keep up to date with the latest news - subscribe to the Transcribe Bentham newsletter; Find a new page to transcribe in our list of Untranscribed Manuscripts
There is a word which on which my deepest hate
My darkest indignation I would pour:-
It is society's most leprous sore
It is the bane of all that's good & great;
It is a heavy, dark, infernal gate
That doth the mind imprison – it doth more –
It makes the tired earth bleed at every pore
That word – man's bane curse – heaven's scorn – legitimate
This is the talisman which tyrants wre wield
This is the sceptre – this the sceptre waved
When the long-suffering many are enslaved
By the usurping few. And are we steeld
Against all sense, all suffering? No! the chair
Will break – man thinks not, – suffers not in vain.
Identifier: | JB/110/230/002 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
|
|||
---|---|---|---|
110 |
|||
230 |
|||
002 |
|||
collectanea |
2 |
||
recto |
|||
sir john bowring |
|||
36220 |
|||