England in 1819

Percy Shelley - "England in 1819" - Romantic

An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying King;
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Through public scorn,—mud from a muddy spring;

Rulers who neither see nor feel nor know,
But leechlike to their fainting country cling
Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow.
A people starved and stabbed in th’ untilled field;
An army, whom liberticide and prey
Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield;


Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay;
Religion Christless, Godless—a book sealed;
A senate, Time’s worst statute, unrepealed—
Are graves from which a glorious Phantom may
Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day.

By Percy Bysshe Shelley


While I was trying to find the write wording for my feelings, I came across some poems and literature worth sharing, reminding me that many have felt the same way before.

Uncertain about the future, scared and a bit terrified but not without hope.

Only 24 days to the election!

2 thoughts on “England in 1819

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