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ReadingWillow structured literacy program for Australian students

Song to the Men of England

Percy Bysshe Shelley·1792–1822
Lines:32Movement:Romanticism
Men of England, wherefore ploughFor the lords who lay ye low?Wherefore weave with toil and careThe rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save,From the cradle to the grave,Those ungrateful drones who wouldDrain your sweat--nay, drink your blood? Wherefore, Bees of England, forgeMany a weapon, chain, and scourge,That these stingless drones may spoilThe forced produce of your toil? Have ye leisure, comfort, calm,Shelter, food, love's gentle balm?Or what is it ye buy so dearWith your pain and with your fear? The seed ye sow, another reaps;The wealth ye find, another keeps;The robes ye weave, another wears;The arms ye forge; another bears. Sow seed,--but let no tyrant reap;Find wealth,--let no impostor heap;Weave robes,--let not the idle wear;Forge arms,--in your defence to bear. Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells;In halls ye deck another dwells.Why shake the chains ye wrought? Ye seeThe steel ye tempered glance on ye. With plough and spade, and hoe and loom,Trace your grave, and build your tomb,And weave your winding-sheet, till fairEngland be your sepulchre.