The Red Anarchist Must Go

From the mansions where the columns
     Rise in lofty grandeur, where
Splendid gardens, broadly stretching,
     Lend their fragrance to the air;
Where the luxury of riches
     And the pride of birth appear,
There’s a loud, clear cry ascending
That the listening world may hear—
That is growing louder, louder, and is echoed high and low:
     “The red anarchist must go!” [46][47]

From the shops where whirring pinions
     Add their music to the cling
Of the hammers on the anvils
     And the songs the pulleys sing,
Where the hissing sparks are flying
     And the jangling beams are whirled,
There’s a loud, clear cry ascending
     That goes echoing through the world—
That is carried from the blazing hearths on all the winds that blow:
     “The red anarchist must go!”

From the orchards where the apples
     Blush upon the leaning trees,
Where the drooping corn leaves rattle
     Little protests to the breeze,
Where the stretches of brown stubbles
     Tell the world of duties done,
There’s a loud, clear cry ascending
     That the knaves may hear who run—
’Tis the cry of loyal millions raised against the bestial foe:
     “The red anarchist must go!”

From the crowded streets where eager
     People hurry through the day,
From the car that swiftly passes
     And the slowly moving dray,
From the hills and from the valleys
     Stretching out from sea to sea
There’s a loud, clear cry of protest
     From a nation that is free—
The cry of outraged Reason raised against her filthy foe:
     “The red anarchist must go!”