Ye citizens of Mary-le-bone! 'twas yours to point the way

How freemen best might mock the laws which none but slaves obey;

How classic fanes should rise to mark the honour that we owe

To all who hated Church and King, and planned their overthrow.

O fresh and bright shone reason's light through superstition's gloom,

When one and all ye heard the call of honest Joseph Hume;

When listening to his flowing words, than honey-dew more sweet,

Ye sate, dissolved in holy tears, at that Gamaliel's feet!

How touchingly he spoke of those now gather'd to their rest,

By knaves and laws upbraided, but by righteous patriots bless'd;

How brightly gleamed his eagle eye, as he poured his ancient grudge

On that foul throng that wrought them wrong—on Jury and on Judge!

Well may ye boast among the host of patriots tried and true,

That to your bold humanity the foremost place is due;

Yet others follow fast behind, though ye have led the van,

In the cause of just fraternity, and the equal rights of man!

Dun-Edin's civic Councillors come closely in your wake,

They, too, can feel for injured truth, and blush for Scotland's sake;

Well have they wiped the stain away, affix'd in former years

Upon the citizens of France, and on their bold compeers.

Let women moan and maunder against the glorious time,

When France arose in all her might, when loyalty was crime;

When prison shambles stream'd with blood, and red the gutters ran,

In the cause of just fraternity, and the equal rights of man!

When piled within the crazy boats, chain'd closely to the beam,

By hundreds the aristocrats sank in the sullen stream;

When age and sex were no respite, and merrily and keen,

From morning until night, rush'd down the clanking guillotine.

'Tis ours to render homage, where homage most is due—

Now glory be to DANTON, and to his valiant crew—

And glory to those mighty shades, who never stoop'd to spare,

The virtuous regicides of France, and the hero, ROBESPIERRE.

But greater glory still to those, who strove within our land,

To hoist the cap of liberty, and bare the British brand,

To drag our ancient Parliament from its place of honour down,

To ride rough-shod upon the Lords, and spit upon the Crown.

What though the bigots of the bench declared their treason vile—

What though they languish'd slowly in the felon's distant isle—

Shall we, the children of Reform, withhold our just applause

From those who loved the people and, of course, despised the laws?

We'll rear a stately monument—we'll build it fair and high,

And on the porch this graven verse shall greet the passers-by—

"IN HONOUR OF THE MARTYRS WHO THE BATTLE FIRST BEGAN

FOR THE CAUSE OF JUST FRATERNITY, AND THE EQUAL RIGHTS OF MAN!"

'Twill be a proud memorial, when we have pass'd away,

Of old Dun-Edin's loyalty, and the Civic Council's sway;

And it shall stand while earth is green and skies are summer blue,

Eternal as the sleep of those who fell at Peterloo!

Were I a chosen Councillor—a tetrarch of the town,

I'd drag from off their pedestals these Tory statues down;

I'd make a universal sweep of all that serves to show

How vilely the aristocrats have used us long ago.

The column rear'd to victory in that detested war,

When the Tricolor went down before our flag at Trafalgar,

The column that hath taught our sons to mutter Nelson's name,

I'd level straightway with the dust, and with it sink our shame.

Yes! in that place a classic fane should stand where Nelson's stood,

With new baptismal cognizance from famous THISTLEWOOD;

His bust should in the centre shine, and round it, placed on guard,

The effigies of HATFIELD, INGS, and of the good DESPARD.

There's Pitt, the Lar of Frederick Street—O shame to us and ours!

Was it not he whose policy struck back the Gallic powers?

Was it not he whose iron hand so ruthlessly kept down

The tide of bold democracy, and saved the British crown?

I'd fetch him from his lofty perch; I'd dash him on the stones;

I'd serve the lifeless bronze the same as I'd have served his bones;

And on the empty stance I would in radiant metal show,

A bolder and a braver man—the patriot PAPINEAU.

Down, down, I say, with George the Fourth!—for him there's no delay;

Let all askance direct their glance, for virtue's sake, we pray;

So says our new Pygmalion, the purist of the town,

'Twere shame that he compelled should be, in passing, to look down.

Let's find another statue of the brave old English breed,

A worthy of an earlier age—a champion good at need;

No cause were then to seem ashamed, though slaves might feel afraid,

When emancipated bondsmen bow'd to the image of JACK CADE.

There's room enough where Royal Charles sits stiffly in the Square,

To rear a double effigy—Why not of BURKE and HARE?

Though not in freedom's cause they died, remember'd let it be,

That science has its martyrdom, as well as liberty.

A monument to Walter Scott!—A monument forsooth!

What has that bigot done for us, for freedom, or for truth?

He always back'd the Cavalier against the Puritan,

And sneer'd at just fraternity, and the equal rights of man.

What good to us have ever done his Legends of Montrose,

Of Douglas and of dark Dundee, the fellest of our foes?

What care we for the Border chiefs, or for the Stuart line,

Or the thraldom of the people in "the days of auld langsyne?"

Men dream'd not of equality in days so darkly wild,

Nor was the peasant's bantling then mate for the baron's child;

But we've learn'd another lesson since the golden age drew near,

And working men may keep the wall, and jostle prince and peer.

Ye fools! take down your monument—or rear it, if ye will,

But choose another effigy that lofty niche to fill.

None better, say ye? Pause awhile, and I will tell you one,

Who never bent the servile knee at altar or at throne.

No fond illusions dull'd his eye, no tales of wither'd eld;

No childish faith was his to trust aught save what he beheld;

No sovereignty would he allow save Reason's rightful reign;

No laws save those of Nature's code—and such was THOMAS PAINE.

Place him within your Gothic arch, the only fit compeer

Of those whose martyr monument the Council seek to rear;

Since traitors to the laws of man may boldly look abroad,

Towards the image of their friend who broke the laws of God.

Since anarchy must have its meed, let's leave no statue here,

That might from other lips than ours provoke a cynic sneer:

If temples must be built to crime, we'll worship there alone,

Nor leave a mark of loyalty or honour in the stone.

Then glory to our Councillors, that true and trusty band—

And glory to each gallant heart that loathes its fatherland;

And glory evermore to those who the battle first began,

For the cause of just fraternity, and the equal rights of man!