Hear ye not the gloomy yelling
Or the tide of anguish swelling,
Hear the clank of fetter and chain,
Hear ye the wild cry of grief and pain,
Followed by the shuddering laugh
As when fiends the life blood quaff?
See! see that band,
See how their bursting eyeballs gleam,
As the tiger's when crouched in the jungles lair,
In India's sultry land.
Now they are seized in the rabies fell,
Hark! 'tis a shriek as from fiends of hell;
Now there is a plaining moan,
As the flow of the sullen river--
List! there is a hollow groan.
Doth it not make e'en you to shiver--
These are they struck of the barbs of my quiver.
Slaves before my haughty throne,
Bow then, bow to me alone.