The harlot that men called great Babylon, 
In crimson raiment and in sooth attire, 
The scarlet leprosy that shamed the sun, 
The gilded goat that plied the world for hire ;— 
Her days of wealth and majesty are done : 
Men trample her for mire ! 
 
The temple of their God is broken down ; 
Yea, Mammon’s shrine is cleansed !  The house of her 
That cowed the world with her malignant frown, 
And drove the Celt to exile and despair, 
Is battered now—God’s fire destroys the town ; 
London admits God’s air. 
 
They scorned the god that made them ; yea, they said : 
“ Lords of this globe, the Saxon race, are we. 
“ Europe before us lies, as men lie dead ; 
“ Britannia—ho !  Britannia rules the sea ! ” 
This night thy kingdom shall be finishèd, 
Thy soul required of thee. 
 
Hail !  France !  Because thy freedom hath rebelled 
Against the alien, and the golden yoke ; 
Because thy justice lives and reigns, unquelled, 
Unbribed ; because thy head above the smoke 
Soars, eagle !  Tribulation hath not felled 
Thy freedom’s ancient oak !
 
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