Wake up Sister Liberty!
To where hast the tattered tassels
of thy garment strewn?
You promised us Freedom and
Democracy most fair,
yet thus far only hast war
nested within our lair.
From the days when Old
Hick’s slaves built a
Trail of Tears,
and the Big Chief in Washington
told the Brave Chief in Seattle cheers.
As Walker’s harrowing appeal,
‘O Americans! Americans!! I warn you
in the name of the Lord (whether you will
hear or forbear,) to repent and reform, or
you are ruined!!!’ was apparently unheard.
Beatrice my dear where hath Sister Liberty gone?
Is it true as the angel Michael said,
“Towards the west, [you] shall find the plain wherein
a black bituminous gurge boils out from under ground,
the mouth of Hell.”
Jacob’s rock lies lathered amid this mephitic stench!
Wounded nevermore to again solidly step.
Where art thou Sister Liberty?
To where have thy thoughts turned?
Hast thee turned as an angel into an eagle most free?
Do you now dine daily
On the afterthought of Liberty?
Has a nation’s self-proclaimed Manifest Destiny
Been betrayed as a most hideous curse?
Has absolute power corrupted our verse?
O woe is me. . .
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