With step as soft as wind it passed Over the heads of men so fast That they felt the presence there And looked and all was empty air And the prostrate multitude looked and Ankle deep in blood, trudged along Without aim, trudging through The freshly slain Rise like lions after slumber In unvanquishable number Shake your chains to earth like dust Which in sleep enveloped us And anarchy, the ghastly birth Lay deadened earth upon deadened earth The horse of death whose hooves did grind To dust the murderers from behind A fervent from beneath was Heard + felt + at its close A fervent from beneath These words of hate + fear arose: Rise like lions after slumber In unvanquishable number Shake your chains to earth like dust Which in sleep enveloped us We are many, they are few We are many