Lady Liberty: What's he that wishes so?
Evil vile master of puppets? No, dark harbinger;
If we are mark'd to vote, we are shall not
Unto our country make no loss; and if to win,
Against your thuggery, our land recover lost honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one brownshirt more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for power,
Nor care I who doth feed with the beast of war;
It yearns me not to see your emperor's wear exposed;
Or in the stocks to see you dwell is not within my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet liberty,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, dark liege, do not call the iron curtain here.
God's peace! I could seek so great an honour than liberty
To spread across our most sacred land, Cherishing this
Is the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more goad!
Rather proclaim it, seething Rove, through my host,
He whose party has no stomach to fight his own fight,
Let such oppressors depart; his passport shall be made,
And dollars for departure put into his lot;
We would not vote nor live in that man's company
That fears the spreading light of democracy's beacon.
This day is call'd the Feast of Justice.
He that outlives this day, and brings said light home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the cause of the hope.
He that shall live this day, and ripen a sage's age,
Will spin yarns of when darkness of heart came to our shores,
And say 'Then aurora of Liberty showed us the way.'
Then will he let low his guard and show his tears,
And say 'Came years to late for all to many, that Feast of Justice.'
History might repeat; and you, Rove, will wish to forget,
But the people will remember, with advantages,
What feats America did that day when God's grace returned,
Familiar in world's mouth as household words will be-
The Lady of Liberty, Uncle Sam the Wise,
America, that Grand City on the Hill -
Be in their overflowing joy of this day fondly rememb'red.
Our story shall the good man teach his son;
When future trials of justice and liberty occur,
For on this day till Gabriel warms his horn,
Across this land, hope's homecoming shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of patriots;
For he to-day fights the suppression with me
Shall be my true countryman; victors against your corruption,
Shall expose your base and wicked condition;
And America shall awake from your ignoble demented dream.
And faux gentlemen in luxury and decadence now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
To hold back the ropes that rang the bells, to herald back
Justice, Hope and Liberty returning sea to shining sea.
So mark this day, O Rove, for it marks the end of yours!
O, glorious, GLORIUS DAY!
The patriots erupt and the Golden Age of America is hushered in.