{"1": {"fulltext": "mwm\\nPS 3537\\n.W68 A4\\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS\\n0DDDE7T4731\\nC", "height": "3109", "width": "2018", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "y V\\nv-^^\\n.\u00c2\u00bb;4.*i:.X .V ^^ikik!.^ ^v\\\\.^-,.-*o^\\nc .-A\\nO.", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "t\\no\\nO A\\n^oV\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2*bV* ydS^m -fjUrU =^^EV. O-,-*\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0^0\\noK\\nl\\n.o^", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "Advent of Empire\\nBY\\nMORRISON I. SWIFT\\nLOS ANGELES, CAL.\\nTHE RONBROKE PRESS\\n19d0", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "COPYRIGHT I900, BY\\nMORRISON I. SWIFT\\nTWO COPIES ftJ\u00c2\u00a3CeiV\u00c2\u00a3iD,\\nLibrary of Congr9t% li A\\nOffice of tbe F3^\\nMAY 2 4 1900\\nRegister of Copyrlgkfft jy\\n62696\\nSECOND COPY.", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\n1. The Gun is God.\\n2^ ^TJhue.^P^th^ ,t9 Slavery..\\n3. Imperial Sam.\\n4. The Greatest Thing is Love.\\n5. Go Die for the President King.\\n6. American Love.\\n7. Butcher McKinley.\\n8. Cradle Magic of the Millionaire.\\n9. Might and Right.\\n10. Imperial England, with Thoughts on Imperial\\nAmerica.\\n11. Anglo-Saxon Union.\\n12. John Bullet.\\n13. Possessional (A Victorious Ode).\\n14. The Cosmopolitan Business Man s Creed.\\n15. Prayer of the Rich.\\n16. The Free American Workingman.\\n17. Equality.\\n18. The Primitive Races Shall Be Cultured.\\n19. Tweedle de Kipling.\\n20. Bulldog of Liberty.\\n21. John Rockefeller.\\n22. The Brothers.\\n23. I Am a Just God.\\n24. Rebels.\\n25. Man.\\n26. Tyrants of the Republic.\\n27. Who Save the World.\\n28. The Workingman s Opportunity.\\n29. This Dying Country.\\n30. McKinley s Cabinet Meeting.\\n31. Chains of Republican Empire.\\n32 There is Still Health in the Desert.", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "Advent of Empire\\nThe Gun is God\\nThe God of the world of the haughty moderns.\\nThe holy Christ of atoned earth s saints,\\nIs the ardent gun that belches killing,\\nExploding shell in a thousand brains.\\nLove is cold as the glacial ice\\nOf the ages that polished the anchored rocks;\\nHeart is dead as the plague-marred corpse,\\nOr mummy parched at the source of Time.\\nHate is Lord of the white man s virtues,\\nDeath the sceptre and crown thereof;\\nBeg for life, ye weak, and listen:\\nSwish of Bword is Law of Love.", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "The Path to Slavery\\nIn this somber moment craven\\nWe are drifting to our fate,\\nWhile the seeds of ancient leaven\\nBlossom to the glare of hate.\\nWe who were a noble nation,\\nBorn upon a purer plane\\nThan the ruffians of creation,\\nWhom we imitate for gain!\\nVaunting wildly mad excuses,\\nManiacal rage for war;\\nLifting high the old abuses\\nOn the clotted base of gore.\\nTrade debauches with a war force\\nThat will strike our freedom low!\\nHarnessing us in a war course\\nHomeward sure to turn the blow!\\nFor the solemn law is written\\nOn the burning mist of time\\nBy your hand you shall be smitten,\\nYou shall die of greedy crime.\\nIf you wed with spoliation,\\nConsort with the battle fiend,\\nYou will meet the pent damnation.\\nFrom your pinnacle bemeaned.\\nDarling armies will enslave you.\\nTrail your liberties in dust,\\nCursed trade of war deprave you,\\nDemocratic virtues rust.\\nPause then ere the curse is spoken,\\nBind the antic folly down:\\nNever freedom can be broken\\nSave by military crown.\\n8\\nd", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "Imperial Sam\\nAmong the powers that gem earth s ancient field-\\nThe youngest of her mighty galaxy\\nFar-blazing in the majesty I wield,\\nHumane, Imperial, generous and free,\\nBehold me, all mankind, with startled awe.\\nAnd nations bow your sinful timeworn knees;\\nA terror of my kind you never saw,\\nMy justice wills immaculate decrees.\\nI whipped old Spain to make dear Cuba free.\\nHe lies deep in his throat who dares deny it;\\nIt s parcel of that same humanity\\nTo hold sweet Cuba though the world decry it.\\nIn all I do I act with wisdom deep\\nAnd love? Yes, love s a mighty motive with me-\\nTo fools my course may seem a little steep,\\nThe trusty Cubans surely will forgive me.\\nWith love and force I ll mix the Cubans up:\\nPooh! What care I for any old opinion?\\nBrute force will make a goodly marriage cup\\nAnd authorize my conduct of dominion.\\nDamn Cuba! This I say beneath the rose\\nWho cares a twiddle for the blasted nigger?\\nPhilanthropy s a darling jolly pose\\nBut no one means it when he is the bigger.\\n9", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "I want fair Cuba for my trade, that s all;\\nAnd I ve a trick that fools the idiot people:\\nI ll free her sometime, when her sense grows tall\\nYour Uncle Sam can climb a greased steeple.\\nBut I ll take care that time may never come,\\nOnce I have got my throttling grip upon her;\\nThen she may squirm aad bite and kick and foam,\\nOh, to the devil with my word of honor!\\nBut if the bumptious fools at home object,\\nAnd say, Now Sam, this surely is too brazen!\\nMy trick across the ocean I ll project,\\nMy pious love near China I ll emblazon.\\nWe do want China, or our natural slice.\\nSo we must gobble up the Philippines\\nTo love your fellow men is very nice\\nWhen love the dirtiest conscience brightly cleans.\\nNow here s the blameless business in a nutshell:\\nThe Filipinos cannot creep themselves\\nMere savages that screech and whoop and yell,\\nJust playful dancing childish little elves\\nNor must we turn them back to Spain the hidious,\\nBut godly take them by the chubby hand\\nThat will not seem to any one invidious\\nBe their protector till they learn to stand.\\nBut when we ve boozled them to reverent bearing,\\nWe ll hold them till the noon of judgment day;\\nOur navy ll set the whole of Europe swearing,\\nOur army shall the curdling earth dismay.\\nAwed by this screaming military pageant,\\nThe moral sucklings of our commonwealth\\nWill prate no more of duty or God s agent,\\nWe ll keep the chattels always, for their health.\\n10\\n1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "The Greatest Thing is Love\\nExtend, Lord, a gracious share\\nOf thy divine perception,\\nTo those besotted Filipines\\nIn wallowing disaffection.\\nWhy are they not ordained to see\\nThe love we dangle to them?\\nIf they would take the baited hook\\nI know it would not rue them.\\nWe do not burn their towns in hate,\\nNor starve their men and women;\\nIt is a tender form of fate.\\nThe bonfire and the famine.\\nHow sweet it is to see the trail\\nOf civilizing sorrow!\\nHow noble to enjoy the wail\\nOf those whose lands we borrow!\\nThe goodliest form of good on earth\\nIs keenly hurting others,\\nPutting the dagger in their backs\\nAnd calling them our brothers.\\nO Dewey bring the Tagals home\\nAnd bind them to your chariot,\\nA million Christians in this land\\nExultingly will carry it.\\n11", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "Go Die for the President King\\nA PATRIOTIC HYMN\\nOur Self has determined the savage to save,\\nAway to the East with the young and the brave!\\nThere is honor for them in a Philippine grave\\nAnd in putting my head in a crown.\\nIt is noble to die for the soul of the black,\\nAnd wholly sublime his poor body to hack;\\nThe gates of eternity thus you will crack\\nFor those upon whom I may frown.\\nThe saints and the sinners delightedly see\\nThe deified mission imposed upon me,\\nOrdained to conduct a terrestrial spree\\nTo saddle the white on the brown.\\nTis little I ask of the world or mankind,\\nImperial rule over white and black jined,\\nA padlock on lip and a handcuff on mind,\\nAnd to pull all the free people down.\\nO, mothers, beloved of dead soldier boys,\\nWho lift up your cries with a horrible noise,\\nI ll settle the score and establish your poise,\\nBy giving your dead uns renown.\\nHere s medal and monument, pension and verse,\\nCome, hustle your heroes away in a hearse.\\nBy giving your sons you have won a fat purse,\\nAnd your sorrows in glory may drown.\\n12", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "American Love\\nPiety and buccaneering\\nO er the world I go a steering,\\nI m a pirate to perfection\\nWhere the strong have no objection-\\nIt is my inheritance,\\nGreed and Godly eloquence.\\nGet it from the berserkers\\nAnd such other sort of curs.\\nHave the blue blood of the Viking,\\nInfamous and dagger-striking;\\nMake a black man think I love him,\\nOn his bare back and above him;\\nPick his pocket-book of gold,\\nBible at his nose I hold.\\nAll for Anglo-Saxon glory\\nAm I mean and dripping gory\\nAny low thing an excuse\\nFor premeditate abuse;\\nTreachery political\\nBlack as everlasting hell.\\nWhat s the use of a-begrudgin\\nUse of rapier and bludgeon\\nOn the stubborn copper heads\\nOf the Asiatic reds?\\nKill them out and plant the Saxon\\nNuts, that Maxim bullets cracks em.\\n13", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "Hie we to antipodes\\nMissionary haws and hees,\\nUniversity and college\\nDead men sooner rot with knowledge\\nAll the world will bow to God\\nWhen the pedagogues have jawed.\\nWe shall teach arithmetic\\nWith an elemental kick;\\nAnguish just above distraction\\nIs the rule of Anglo fraction;\\nRealize geometry\\nTo a nigger up a tree;\\nFill with metaphysic lore\\nThrough the rifle s narrow bore;\\nTrigonojnic lines and spaces\\nAre the Military Graces.\\nWe can teach anatomy\\nTo the butchered Tagal free\\nWhy not set a clinic up\\nAt the mouth of every Krupp?\\nAs for chemic analytic,\\nHere s the modern way to hit it:\\nTake a gallon of deceit,\\nMix it with a pound of cheat,\\nAdd for salt hypocrisy.\\nPepper dark with treachery,\\nPut it in a skin of love,\\nLabel it From God Above\\nGivie it to the patient hot,\\nCall the quack a patriot.\\n(Any one that s not a hater,\\nStone him with the title traitor\\nEvery opposition reason\\nGibbet with the name of treason.)\\n14", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "Teach the physics of the grave\\nTo the Filipino slave:\\nIt is well enough in Hades\\nFor the Oriental babies,\\nThey should know their way to spell\\nThrough the labyrinths of hell.\\nWith explanatory cheek,\\nMake the children English squeak:\\nThat is over-compensation\\nFor the stealing of a nation.\\n(If a man can lick another\\nHe may call himself his brother;\\nWe don t think an action gall\\nWhere we ve only taken all.)\\nCramming for examination\\nWhite man s lead civilization;\\nPetrified and A B C d,\\nMaxim gunned and Ph. D. d\\nSpectacles and Ph. D\\nClothe the naked fit to see.\\nEvery species of affliction\\nNow is healed by learned diction;\\nWhile we blow their heads away,\\nKnowledge has its perfect sway;\\nDum dum bullets are a rod 11\\nMake the little natives toddle.\\n15", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "Butcher McKinley\\n[While the Weyler of the Philippines was pro-\\nceeding with the slaughter of their inhabitants\\nhe said at a Boston dinner: The evolution of\\nevents which no man could control has brought\\nthese problems upon us. Certain it is that they\\nhave not come through any fault on our own part,\\nbut as a high obligation, Until Congress shall\\ndirect otherwise, it will be the duty of the Execu-\\ntive to possess and hold the Philippines, giving to\\nthe people thereof peace and order and beneficent\\ngovernment, affording them every opportunity to\\nprosecute their lawful pursuits, encouraging them\\nin thrift and industry, making them feel and know\\nthat we are their friends, not their enemies, that\\ntheir good is our aim, that their welfare is our\\nwelfare, but that neither their aspirations nor ours\\ncan be realized until our authority is acknowl-\\nedged and unquestioned. He called those present\\nto witness that in what he has done to these\\npeople we were obeying a higher moral obliga-\\ntion. We were doing our duty by them as God\\ngave us the light to see our duty, with the con-\\nsent of our own consciences,\\nSPEAKS TO THE PEOPLE.\\nO Friends and Citizens, judge not my course\\nBy ordinary law. I am a man of God;\\nAnd when I raise the nation s arm to kill,\\nGod does it high-compelling destiny.\\n16", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "Abate your fears. Tis noble, pure and right\\nTo kill the weak by God s ordainment.\\nHe does ordain it, through his mighty instrument,\\nMyself.\\nSweet friends, sweet fellowmen, sweet voters,\\nCall not murder murder if God wills.\\nTis blasphemy, abortion, miscontent, abomina-\\ntion.\\nHell s own self, to charge dear God with crime.\\nI must as many Filipinos kill as shall appease\\nGod s wrath at them for spurning my decree.\\nThey shall not flout me, damn them,\\nMe the mighty Me, backed as I am\\nBy all the men of wealth in this true land\\nDear men of wealth! Good men of wealth!\\nThink you that God could stand against Mark\\nHanna\\nIf He would? And all this host of multimillion-\\naires?\\nSweet millionaires disdain me not; believe me\\nThat I love you, and once more elect me.\\nKind Sirs, I ll gladly kill for you\u00e2\u0080\u0094 and God.\\nBelieve me, God shall be your tool by my com-\\nmand.\\nADDRESSES GOD.\\nI am a pious man, a holy man, and member of a\\nchurch.\\nDid I not tell the damned blacks\\nTo ground their arms?\\nO madness veritable, they disobeyed!\\nFiends, monsters, toads, green lizards, scorpions,\\nsnakes.\\nAnd other foulnesses I think not of just now\\nThink you resistance possible toward me?\\n17", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "They must submit. For mean and weak and black\\nThere is no virtue but submission.\\nAfter submission, well, we ll see;\\nBut there s no right the weak can do.\\nIf they resist the strong.\\nResistance has no earthly name descriptive:\\nIt is so putrid, dank, disreputably vile.\\nYou plead for them?\\nGreat God I thought much better of you.\\nFirst they obey me shall, obedience first,\\nThough I should have to rip their bowels forth,\\nBurn out their eyes, shoot holes in them\\nLike sieves, tear off their fevered flesh.\\nAnd kill their viperish souls.\\nIt is a law of mine\\nThat niggers must submit to my sublimity\\nBefore they gain the earliest fundamental right\\nTo even live, much less to speak of what they wish.\\nTheir wish! As if that mattered aught!\\nFirst they obey me shall, if I kill every one.\\nTime there will be for kindness when they re dead.\\nOh sin unnameable. Conceit unbearable! To dare\\nThis opposition! For smaller crimes some pardon.\\nBut for this damnation, hell, torment.\\nSeething, roasting infinite. I ll not be balked,\\nThey shall be taught my perfect goodness.\\n1\\nAnd how I love them! God! Everyone that dies\\nIn disobedience penetrates my soul!\\nI ll see them later, look pityingly down from\\nheaven\\nUpon their Hell-scorched lips\\nFor go to hell they shall for disobedience.\\n18", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "Heavenly Admiral, Chief Gunner of the batteries\\ndivine,\\nThey say I am a Weyler in disguise:\\nBut You believe it not? I am content!\\n1 only kill for you (and millionaires). Did Weyler\\nthat?\\nLet s count the dead. You count the souls, Old\\nMan Above,\\nAnd I ll the bodies count then we ll compare.\\nThey re only pin-prick souls, they ll crowd not\\nhell\\nNor keep bad white men out who later shall\\nGo down for spewing at my will.\\nTen thousand! That s my count; a glorious show-\\ning\\nFor a week of war. Still guide me, dear Re-\\ndeemer;\\nMake my subjects see my virtue and my vastiness,\\nAnd crush my enemies. I ll send you blood\\nIn pitchers, pails, tanks, pools,\\nLakes, oceans, hemispheres,\\nIf you ll protect me and my saints the millionaires.\\nYou re going? Just a word before we part.\\nHush, only whispers now. I want a thing to bor-\\nrow.\\nI ll give You interest on the loan\\nA church or such perchance another\\nRockefeller college, if my John agrees.\\nWhat loan? Why this\u00e2\u0080\u0094 the Devil.\\nDon t jump, I only want him for Your good;\\nWhy should the stain of slaughter be on us?\\nLet s use the Devil to help on the Right\\nAnd prop the kingdom of Yourself on earth.\\n19", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "Send him across the brine to cleave the skulls\\nOf those foul imps of mud the Filipinos,\\nAgainst the grain to do it? Now God, just listen:\\nKnowing the saint I am can you suppose\\nI would do wrong? And more, I ve talked with\\nHanna.\\nHe says the Devil s merely You disguised,\\nYour rear or nether side; that most men\\nDo not understand Divine anatomy;\\nThat what the Devil does is your performance,\\nBut called the Devil for man s dull content.\\nYou don t deny it? Then here s a secret for you:\\nI also am a little black inside.\\nIt s fun to kill with arm of law of course\\nFor otherwise some fellow might resent it and kill\\nme.\\nLaw is the keenest dagger ere was forged!\\nAssassination from my easy White House chair\\nAcross the world! I m safe; no Filipino can sur-\\nmount\\nThe pale of Anglo-Saxon law.\\nWith sleek black coat and polished countenance\\nAnd boots I sit and pen decrees of murder,\\nWhile dazzled men adore my lenient justice.\\nGood-bye, we ll chat again anon.\\nBefore that time I ll send You myriads more dead\\nblacks.\\nBut mind You don t forget j\\nTo order down the Devil.\\nHe may be needed here at home. t\\nI hear the People s stomach is about j\\nTo vomit up this Filipino blood. j\\nTis possible I went too far at first. j\\n20", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "But if I did the Devil and my brand new army-\\nWill quite cure them. No medicine like lead\\nFor others. A bullet in the sickly part, presto,\\nThe man is cured and no more moral spasms.\\nWhen all the better Tagals bite the sand\\nThere are some damnable Americans shall bite it.\\nYou say, look out? I swear it, they shall die\\nFor criticising me. My men of capital ordain\\nAnd I obey. Money and Maxim guns\\nThat s my maxim. Good joke? A very stomach\\nfull\\nOf joke for those who set up liberty against\\nmonopoly.\\nGood-bye again; ta ta. If I m in trouble You ll\\nhelp?\\nThen every bullet hole I make\\nShall be in honor of Your sacred name.\\n21", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "Cradle Magic of the Millionaire\\nWhy should I not own all the world?\\nThere s nothing hinders. With my fine blade, the\\nTrust\\nI ll plunder common hinds,\\nThe herd, the rabble, the canaille,\\nAnd make them sullen vassals.\\nHow? There is the friction point.\\nAn army I must have, and that same vulgar herd\\nIs set like tempered steel against an army.\\nHa! We ll invent a war,\\nAnd paint it soft with words like these\\nHumanity, Philanthropy, The Love of God,\\nReward in Heaven, and Sweet Improvement\\nOf Some Sodden Savagery, Rescued from Foul\\nAtrocities for we can always find\\nAtrocities at hand in this game world\\nOr make them.\\nThere s Cuba now, she ll do.\\nFor Spain is like a woman aged.\\nWith both feet in the grave\\n90", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "How shall I rouse our citizens\\nAnd make them hustle on the brutal sword\\nWith which we ll slay themselves?\\nThe upper class sweet sentiment! we ll trick\\nWith visions of emolument and fame.\\nWho of them can withstand the potent witchery\\nOf General beplastered to his name,\\nOr Colonel So-and-So,\\nAnd trumped up deeds of valor wired home\\nBy news reporters who must earn their salt,\\nAnd thank their God they have imaginations?\\nThe low refuse of men, the stupid millions.\\nWell bribe with pepper d couplets on the Flag\\nAnd patriotic sewer gush about their country.\\nGood God! How could we slide the populace to\\nhell\\nWithout this patriotic grease!\\nAnd yet it s funny that they re taken in again\\nThe millionth time by measured count\\nBy the same foolery!\\nYou d think that kittens with unopened eyes\\nWould smell the falsehood through.\\n23", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "Might and Right\\nMight is right, proclaimed the worldling, seeking\\ncause to rob his friend,\\nSo twas ever since the world began, twill be so\\ntill the end.\\nIn the struggle for existence, lo the weaker is\\ndevoured,\\nEvery good thing, if it s weak, is relentlessly de-\\nflowered.\\nSee the human millions suffer for the glutting of\\nthe few\\nWho are worthless to the universe from every\\npoint of view.\\nBut the secret of their reigning is the fact that\\nthey are strong,\\nIn the universe there s nothing corresponds to\\nright and wrong.\\nPrate about your God in heaven, interested in\\nthe good,\\nTis the verbiage of the strong to keep the people\\nblocks of wood.\\nStrange good God on throne of power looking\\ndown upon the earth,\\nWitnessing the gloating evil stamping out the\\ncause of worth!\\n24", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "Imperial England, with Thoughts on\\nImperial America\\nThe birds sing sweetly in the air,\\nThe kine are basking in the sun,\\nThe lives of men serenely run.\\nAnd all the world is good and fair.\\nThe rook attains his usual twig\\nAnd muses, roosting, on events;\\nHe knows the voluble portents\\nThat what is going on is big.\\nIn England thirty million pounds\\nAre being spent in jubilee;\\nIt is a pageant dear to see,\\nThe philosophic rook sings Zounds!\\nBrooding upon this spectacle\\nA thousand horrors soon emerge;\\nBeneath the glittering vesture surge\\nThe hideous counterparts of hell.\\nRending hypocrisy in twain.\\nThe queen and all that shining frolic,\\nPretending virtue hyperbolic,\\nAre frauds for money half insane.\\n25", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "The queen is only good in seeming,\\nNo parasite is ever good;\\nThough masked in virtue s diamond hood,\\nFor drinking blood it s ever scheming.\\nAnd all these men of noble mien\\nFrom the Lord Mayor up and down,\\nIn essence every one s a clown,\\nNoble as far as he is mean.\\nFor wealth s prodigious beetling structure\\nOnly sycophancy feeds,\\nNever manly virtue breeds,\\nThat would bring earth-shaking rupture.\\nWealth and meanness go together.\\nPomp is flourished for deceit.\\nCelebrations are to cheat\\nThe piteous people with a feather.\\nBy vaunting up the nation s size\\nAnd glorifying deeds of blood.\\nThe masses issue from the mud\\nAnd for a moment cease their cries.\\nEmpire is a word for plunder, f\\nReapers are the rich at home;\\nEmpire-nations common scum\\nHave their vitals fed on wonder.\\nEmpty stomachs glorify\\nAt the shameful jubilees,\\nDoing so they sweetly please\\nThe rich for whom they re made to die,\\n26", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "The rook beheld the world of creatures\\nMade by devil, god and chance,\\nAll mankind in grinning trance\\nWith infinitely ugly features;\\nWarbled forth its heavenly song,\\nResting on its foot of tan,\\nGlad am I I m not a man.\\nAlways fiercely doing wrong.\\nFool at birth and fool at dying,\\nFool throughout his worried life.\\nAll his sweetness burned in strife\\nFor things not worth the faintest trying.\\nHere s the sun and stars and moon.\\nAir in meadows green and shaded,\\nHere is pleasure for the jaded,\\nMan prefers a trader s doom.\\nIf mankind together strove.\\nDoing all for common purpose.\\nIn the world there would be no curse,\\nMan would find the treasure-trove.\\nSpreading wings the rook ascended\\nStarward all the sable night.\\nHoping there to find the right.\\nAnd the reign of folly ended.\\nWarbling through the stillness clear\\nNotes that only wild rooks know,\\nThoughts that true rooks never show.\\nSongs the earth-born never hear.\\n27", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "Anglo-Saxon Union\\nThe English made a festival to canonize their\\nqueen,\\nTwas full the rankest carnival the earth has ever\\nseen;\\nThe commons swelled and swaggered in the sun\\nof majesty,\\nThe rancid masses fain forgot their blown do-\\nmestic sty.\\nThe secret of the pageant was to deify them-\\nselves:\\nThe several hundred thousand on the British up-\\nper shelves;\\nThe queen s a gilded figure-head, of wooden inner\\nview,\\nA figure-head for millionaires, the ruling modern\\ncrew.\\nAmerica was proudly represented over there\\nOur Whitelaw Reid and Johnny Hay of glory had\\ntheir share;\\nWhitelaw especially did sit in mighty sacred spots,\\nHe ate with cunning little Wales and other royal\\nfops.\\n28", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "I hardly dare to write the names of those he sat\\namong,\\nIt seems like letting out a lot of greatness at the\\nbung;\\nHe led Princess Victoria the something to the\\nqueen\\nTo dinner at the Buckingham, to lisp palatial\\ncream.\\nThat was an honor yawning big for a democracy.\\nBut gloriously it served to puff our Aristocracy;\\nThe Bishops and the Board of Trade, the Lords\\nand noodled Earls,\\nWere there with wives and diamonds and daugh-\\nters dear with pearls\\nTaint Whitelaw they are honoring, but the toiling\\ncrowd of us.\\nFor the wretched devils in Cherry street they re\\nmaking all this fuss.\\nIt s the common sixty millions that Old England\\nloves so well.\\nSo well that Wales and the millionaires can hardly\\nhow much tell.\\nHow proud I feel of my part of the honoring we get\\nWhen Whitelaw eats with Devonshire and Wales\\nand that bloody set!\\nMy stomach throbs of gastric sport with the\\nwine that it doesn t drink,\\nMy mind is bewitched by the glorious light of the\\nthoughts that it doesn t think.\\n29", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "But in less delirious moments when the ecstacy\\nsubsides,\\nI think how these rich despise me, and of several\\nthings besides\\nHow the millionaires of England, who invented\\nthis shining spree,\\nAnd their brother rich in America are spreeing\\non you and me.\\nAnd the light of my dazzled stomach sinks down\\nto a lower peg\\nSeen through the eye of the common herd, the\\nboot s on the other leg.\\nThe world has one ruling family, reposing on all\\nthe thrones.\\nCankered, degenerate, half-insane, selfishness-\\nwhitened bones.\\nThe rich of the civilized nations walk firm in the\\nroyal tracks.\\nOne mighty family of wealth enthroned on the\\nmoney sacks;\\nOne gang of world-topping adventurers, royal and\\nrich combined.\\nHandsomely buccaneering all laboring humankind.\\nThe way these royal thrones live on s as clear as\\nYankee jokes:\\nThe powerful new take up the cue and perpetuate\\nthe hoax;\\nThe rich attach themselves to thrones and prop\\nthem up with gold.\\nThe people say this is the way that we were ruled\\nof old.\\n30", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "Ruling s a pretty decent trade, if people tell the\\ntruth,\\nBut those who make it pay the best must learn\\nit in their youth.\\nVictoria started early, mat s the gospel reason\\nshe\\nHas laid a heap of money up and had a jubilee.\\nBut if you would have union of the Anglo-Saxon\\nrace,\\nIf you would wipe dishonor from the Anglo-Saxon\\nface,\\nAbhor the king and wealthy man, and sweep them\\nfrom the fold,\\nRestore the common people to the sceptre and the\\ngold.\\nOtherwise your smart alliance of the robbers at\\nthe top\\nWill be a pandemonium dance of devil and of cop;\\nThe union of the people and extinction of the few\\nWill usher in the end of sin and blend the old and\\nnew.", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "John Bullet\\nThe Jubilee is done and Holy John\\nLays off the irksome robes of pious peace,\\nTakes on his customary butcher s garb,\\nAnd sails to Africa to quench his thirst.\\nGreat Britain is the synonym for Lie!\\nWho can describe the meanness of that race\\nThe devil cunning and hypocrisy\\nWhich celebrates the primacy of love.\\nExtols the theme of universal peace,\\nSwears oaths to Justice and to Liberty,\\nAnd in its cesspool soul plots strenuous rape.\\nRevolves like cud more murderous exploits,\\nAnd works its peaceful protestations up\\nInto excuses to befoul the homes of men!\\nAccursed England, in its soul unfit\\nTo be the dung heap of the nether world.\\n32", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "Possessional\\nA VICTORIOUS ODE\\nGod of our nabobs lone and bold\\nLord of our Christian noblemen\\nBeneath whose awful hand we hold\\nA rented right to hut and fen\\nLord God of Boasts, be with them yet\\nAnd help them get\u00e2\u0080\u0094 and help them get!\\nWe know Thou art of gentle heart\\nTo those who love Thee while they kill,\\nOn hurtling battle plain and mart\\nInform us with Thy warlike skill.\\nDear Soul of Heav n, forsake us not!\\nTill all is got\u00e2\u0080\u0094 till all is got!\\nIf contrite prayer we lift to Thee\\nIn votive honor for our crimes,\\nFrom scalding conscience make us free,\\nAccept the praises of our rhymes.\\nAlmighty Ghost, be Thou content,\\nIf we keep Lent if we keep Lent!\\n33", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "The Czar invokes to holy peace,\\nDisarmament of all mankind:\\nEternal woe! Are nations geese?\\nThe tricky Czar we ll trip behind!\\nQuick, God of Bloodshed, from Thy Star\\nHis precepts mar his precepts mar!\\nPrime God of swords and battle cries\\nTo Whom the dog Czar sneaks a glance\\nWe want no peace in earth or skies.\\nWar is the sweetest circumstance.\\nMost High, we adulate Thy will\\nTo pray and kill to pray and kill!\\nEternal one, Old England vows\\nCathedrals of majestic mould.\\nOur haughty neck before Thee bows,\\nPawn us the planet for our gold.\\nWe are Thy patron, Lord above,\\nPay for our love pay for our love!\\nSend all the world but us to hell\\nThey are not Englishmen, You know\\nThy mighty Name with trumpet yell\\nAcross the universe we ll blow!\\nMost modest God, Oh, love us well\\nFor others hell for others hell!\\nLaureate Fog-Horn Amen!\\nof the Anglo-Saxon Race. SKIPLING.\\nfli\\n34", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "The Cosmopolitan Business Man s\\nCreed\\nMy creed is simple you may know,\\nI live in the modern days;\\nI believe in the son and holy ghost\\nAnd the father when it pays.\\nI love my neighbor as myself\\nIn church on Sundays rare,\\nBut on the week-days of the year\\nI fleece him all I dare.\\nWhen I was just a little boy\\nMy conscience used to prick.\\nBut now it uses all its strength\\nTo make my rival sick.\\nI work the Church for all it s worth,\\nTo get a holy name;\\nIt makes the simple and the good\\nA very easy game.\\nThe ten commandments are a trick\\nTo lariat the mob.\\nBut all of them a man of brains\\nWill break without a sob.\\nTo lie, Oh well, you re not a fool,\\nWe lie in every breath; t\\nAnd swear; you can t swear by a god\\nThat s paralyzed to death.\\n35", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "To rob is glorious sport, you know,\\nThe universal fun;\\nWe do it by commercial laws\\nAnd never use a gun.\\nThe only thing that s really smart,\\nIn these unwarlike days,\\nIs murder carried on by us\\nIn several hundred ways.\\nWe murder men in factories\\nAnd on our railroad trains,\\nAnd when they make a row in towns\\nWe batter out their brains.\\nPolicemen do the actual work\\nOf opening their heads,\\nWhile we re at dinner in the club.\\nOr snoring on our beds.\\nWhenever we can get a chance\\nTo gatling gun the crowd.\\nWe have a Spanish holiday\\nAnd sell them all a shroud.\\nWe like to kill at stated times.\\nIn millions two or three,\\nThe dictionary name is war,\\nBut that s a josh you see.\\nIt s just a little way we have\\nTo clean the people out,\\nWhenever they too many are\\nFor us to lead about.\\n36", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "We call a dinner party of\\nThe Rich Men of the world,\\nAnd order kings and presidents\\nTo have the flags unfurled;\\nWe fill the newspapers with noise,\\nAnd start a general schism,\\nAnd have the pulpits of the land\\nPreach blood and patriotism.\\nThen all the men who are not rich\\nAnd all of tender age\\nGo forth to save their glorious land\\nFrom foes we roused to rage.\\nThey know not what they fight about.\\nBut then they needn t know,\\nThey fight for us that stay at home\\nAnd never strike a blow.\\nAnd when enough on each side have\\nBeen honorably killed,\\nWe tell our presidents and kings\\nTo have the battle stilled.\\nTo murder is a joy to us\\nBecause it pays in cash:\\nIt is the cheapest way we know\\nTo get around a crash.\\nIt also pays in coupons and\\nIn bonds of every kind.\\nFor we conduct the government\\nTo get our pockets lined.\\n37", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "The ten commandments are sublime\\nFor our financial ends;\\nTo keep the people good and down\\nTheir doctrine ever tends.\\nThe gospel law to us is this:\\nThe law of love to break,\\nBut every other class of men\\nThe medicine must take.\\nOur creed is then to have no creed\\nFor which we care a penny;\\nBut to employ the word of god\\nTo tangle up the many.\\n38", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "Prayer of the Rich\\nGive us this day our daily bread,\\nAnd dividends paid up ahead,\\nAnd plenty of poor men in our power,\\nWith women and children to devour.\\nAnd churches for the Sunday hour,\\nWhere we can worship Tnee, O Lord,\\nAnd think of heaven and our reward\\nFor being good in a world of sin\\nAnd saving a small amount of tin.\\nGive us this day our neighbor s bread,\\nWe ll sell or eat it in his stead.\\nLord, give Thyself no further trouble\\nAbout this planetary bubble;\\nWe know its needs as well as Thou,\\nDevoutly we have studied how\\nTo reap where others weep and sow.\\nGive us our neighbors daily bread.\\nAnd pour the blessing on our head.\\nSo go Thy way and pleasure seek.\\nWe ll make it cheerful for the weak.\\n39", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "God, blot the poor out of existence,\\nThey trouble us with their insistence.\\nYou surely haven t got the cheek\\nTo fill up heaven with the meek?\\nJust fancy how the place would reek!\\nAnd if you want US for companions,\\nDamn deep the miserable poor ones.\\nAristocratic hell is better\\nThan heaven peopled from the gutter.\\nBefore you re off attend a second.\\nFor always on your help we ve reckoned.\\nWe ask for ministers to save us,\\nAnd learned college profs to praise us;\\nThe lawyer s a convenient fellow,\\nWith such an aptitude to bellow\\nFor any cause with gold below.\\nThank you, Jehovah, for these boons,\\nWith them we ll steal the poor man s spoons;\\nAnd if we meet a dangerous grudge,\\nPlease send us down a supreme judge.\\nm\\n40", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "The Free American Workingman\\nI live in the grandest earthly land,\\nFar from the curse of kingly hand,\\nWhere men for eternal justice stand,\\nAnd I am free.\\nThe people of all the earth combine\\nTo create a race of men sublime,\\nIn the keen and rich American clime.\\nWhere I am free.\\nOur wealth no nation can surpass,\\nNor our brave aristocratic class,\\nOr the people, a toiling mighty mass.\\nAll of them free.\\nI m proud of our glorious millionaires,\\nGreater than lordly foreign peers,\\nFor aught but money with no cares.\\nMen truly free.\\nI have no land, but only brawn;\\nOften for food my coat I pawn,\\nBut I love the place where I belong\\nAnd am so free.\\n41", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "They turned me out of the work I had\\nBecause I voted as father did,\\nAnd not as the master s orders bid,\\nI who am free.\\nMy wife, she died, but that s not new;\\nFactory women can t undo\\nIlls that have rotted them through and through.\\nAlthough they re free.\\nThat daughter with dainty hands and feet\\nYou know it? Well, she s on the street;\\nTwasn t her fault the times were tight;\\nYes, she is free.\\nMy bashful boy became a tramp;\\nOdd lot for such a little scamp,\\nToo timid to sleep without a lamp,\\nAnd now so free.\\nSomehow the country isn t right.\\nEverything s gone to the elite.\\nAnd the lot of the many isn t sweet,\\nAlthough it s free.\\nBut I don t give up to discontent.\\nCalamity men can t prevent,\\nFor the most of them it s precedent,\\nEven when free.\\nAnd it s right enough that we should toil\\nAnd grub our crumbs from borrowed soil.\\nAnd try hard nature s hate to foil,\\nIf we are free.\\n42", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "And right for the rich man to have all,\\nTo live in ravishing palace hall,\\nWhile we drink bitterness and gall,\\nIf we are free.\\nI wouldn t complain of such a lot.\\nFor it doesn t help a visible jot;\\nThe few have always owned the pot.\\nOf work scot free.\\nNor you mustn t find fault with the universe.\\nFor it only makes a sad thing worse.\\nAnd brings upon you the bitter curse\\nOf all the free.\\nSo sit you down in a quiet spot.\\nAnd brood on the grand things now forgot,\\nAnd let the good things in you rot.\\nSo do the free.\\nWhen we haven t anything else to be,\\nAnd life is a surfeit of misery.\\nThen death relieves our penury,\\nForever free.\\n43", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "Equality\\nTwo little men in a red ripe world\\nDetermined to fight one day;\\nOne was a workingman, trouble-soiled,\\nThe other a rich man gay.\\nBefore we fight, said the capitalist,\\nEverything fair must be.\\nI ll tie your ankles and bind your fist,\\nAnd then you will equal me.\\nAn injunction he put on the workman s arm,\\nA policeman on either leg;\\nTo prevent him from doing any harm,\\nHe sewed him up in a bag.\\nNow, said the rich man, let s be fair;\\nBe square, be fair, I say;\\nI believe in the efficacy of prayer\\nTo begin with, let us pray.\\nWhile the poor man closed his eyes in prayer.\\nAnd bowed his trusting head,\\nThe rich man laid a legal snare\\nAnd removed adjacent bread.\\n44", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "Now then, he cried, as he danced on air,\\nThe rules of the fight are these:\\nStrike here, strike there, strike everywhere,\\nAnd strike as hard as you please.\\nHe kept himself at a distance safe.\\nAnd hurled starvation rocks,\\nIn hand he held the militia staff\\nTo administer crisis knocks.\\nThe fight was awful, as you may judge;\\nBlood flowed in a gurgling stream.\\nI swear I m brave, and I ll never budge!\\nWas the rich man s battle scream.\\nThe workman was soon a ghastly sight.\\nAnd the rich man stormed in glee:\\nBy Jove! The Lord fights with the right,\\nIn a land of equality.\\n46", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "The Primitive Races Shall Be\\nCultured\\nSoftly, a cultured one approaches,\\nMuffle your tones;\\nNo highly polished man encroaches\\nOn rugged zones.\\nYou ll plunge the gentleman in spasms\\nIf you imply\\nThat there are any social chasms\\nSo very nigh.\\nDon t talk of hunger revolution\\nWithin his sphere,\\nIt is a vulgar proposition\\nFor him to hear.\\nSoups mixed with social tittle-tattle\\nAre better themes.\\nSlum clubs to teach the hungry prattle\\nAnd culture dreams.\\nA sometime half-hour with the waif-rakes\\nIndeed I prize;\\nSuch leisure consecrate to their sakes\\nDiversifies.\\n46", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "If between books and social honey\\nCharity peeps,\\nHe gracefully dispenses money\\nAnd nearly weeps.\\nHe can discourse consummate wisdom\\nOn rules of good,\\nAnd prove that you must never use them\\nAlthough you slxould.\\nHe ll qualify your deepest insight\\nWith mists of thought,\\nShow triumphs over might by right\\nAre dearly bought.\\nHe wants to vegetate serenely\\nIn sweetness light,\\nElforts to hasten knows he keenly\\nAre never right.\\nTell him the world is nearly perfect\\nAnd he ll agree\\nSay there s a sweet transcendent object\\nIn cruelty.\\nThis is the kind of sips and surfeits\\nThat he enjoys;\\nThe owl philosophy of comfits\\nWhich he employs.\\nNow for the sake of cosmic culture\\nProgress must stop.\\nAnd life become a white-sepulture\\nPoliteness prop.\\n47", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "Tweedle de Kipling\\nI writes of war and eroes, bless me eyes!\\nSee me counthry tackle people of its size!\\nFrom the grapple of the ape\\nNever shall the Boer escape\\nWhile me pen with bloody inspiration flies.\\nHave ye heerd the tender poem that s me last?\\nTis a mimic of the Day of Judgment blast;\\nHittin at the nasty Boers,\\nWhich is patriotic sure s\\nI repents me who the Widder Windsor sassed.\\nGather round me Tommy Atkins and the girls\\nYez hev ruined in yer canvassin fer pearls;\\nYe r a fancy specimen\\nOf the genus Englishmen,\\nJust the bloomin beef to slaughter in the Kraals.\\nHave ye said yer thanks to God, ye shootin bum-\\nmer?\\nAll the churches is a praisin ye with mummer;\\nAnd the queen, God bless her liver.\\nMay her smile the whole earth kiver,\\nOr me light go out ez literary hummer.\\n48", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "Bulldog of Liberty\\nSwooning Gods! can this vicious old England im-\\nagine\\nHerself the defender of Liberty s shrine?\\nBelieves she the fable, lie-scented and laughing,\\nThat she is the breeder of Freedom divine?\\nNo such light delusion fleet skips through her\\nfancy,\\nA friendless confusion she fondles in vain.\\nOn her bed lies the world for benign vivisection,\\nShe thinks with .a lie to relieve it of pain.\\nFor pain, to the Children of Time, is their money,\\nBereft of it all would in happiness be;\\nSo quaintly she saves them by taking it saintly\\nVicarious redeemer is certainly she.\\n49", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "John Rockefeller\\nWRITTEN BY THE CHICAGO UNIVERSITY\\nThan whom the ruddiest rays of romping sun\\nLess brightly radiate this happy land,\\nMy benefactor with Olympic hand,\\nOut-leaping nature, Thou Supremest One!\\nAll-potent author of my Lights and towers,\\nWhose fecund Word creates strange dividends\\nLike Eve, not for lascivious private ends\\nBut to embellish these moral college bowers:\\nWithout thee. Patron, had my fearsome life\\nChoked early out in stainless poverty;\\nSuperbly has thy consecrated strife\\nCajoled thy country by adorning me.\\nDo what thou wilt, with Trust, or bribe, or knife,\\nI ll garland thee. Thy University.\\n50", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "The Brothers\\nTwo brothers started in this world as twins;\\nAlack, the one through copious crimes and sins\\nGrew rich; the other honest staid and poor,\\nAnd in his brother s rich eyes was a boor.\\nNever a copper did he once receive,\\nAlthough his need was sore with no reprieve;\\nLike that poor nephew of the modern Sage,\\nWho mortgaged a lean farm in his old age.\\nBut speculation walks on treacherous ice,\\nAnd countless wealth goes under in a trice;\\nOur twin awoke, one morning, penniless,\\nScarce twenty thousand dollars left to bless.\\nHe raved and swore and broke his heart and died.\\nThat such dire poverty did him betide.\\nHow could he creep through his declining years.\\nStung by old friendship s diabolic sneers?\\n51", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "The paltry twenty thousand went to him\\nWhose want had ever bubbled o er the brim.\\nAnd filled him with such drastic ecstacy\\nThat his insides a cauldron came to be.\\nThe rivets of his being fell apart,\\nAnd he expired of frenzied happy heart.\\nInto one grave they tumbled poor and rich,\\nThe scientific gods knew which was which.\\nOne thing alone to common man was clear:\\nThat money prematurely loads the bier;\\nIt cracks the brain of men before their time,\\nAnd starts them forth on their celestial climb.\\nI would that all who money love so much\\nMight crack, and heavenward speed upon that\\ncrutch\\nLetting the world be peopled by the rest,\\nWho think that glowing life, of all s the best.\\n52", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "I Am a Just God\\nIn Africa there loomed a cloud\\nThe size of an infant s hand.\\nIt grew in wrath and breathed aloud\\nIt s justified deinand.\\nAll-ruling God omnipotent,\\nWhom heavenly hosts invoke,\\nIn thunder tones the spaces rent.\\nIn thunder sternly spoke:\\nMy voice peals from the infinite,\\nIt calls from the unseen;\\nThe free are holy in my sight,\\nI trample low the mean.\\n*By million-shafted power opprest.\\nBegirt by venomed hate,\\nStill lies my awful arm in rest\\nThe right to vindicate.\\nMy justice guides the bellowing storm\\nAnd conjures it for good,\\nMy love enfolds the meanest worm.\\nAnd destines brotherhood.\\n63", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "The night was black, the cannon roared,\\nAnd the beacon lights went out.\\nWhere now is the hand of the mighty Lord,\\nOur serried foe to rout?\\nThe desert answered to the sea,\\nThe rocks gave back their thought\\nAh, deep eternal mystery,\\nThe Lord availeth naught.\\nIn boasting Bible he contends\\nIn poesy s sweet sound.\\nOn flute and harp for noble ends.\\nBut wards no living wound.\\nNo trumpet with exulting strains.\\nNor lightning, cleaves the sky.\\nThe hand of Providence remains\\nIn eminence on high.\\nIn Afric s desert dark and cold\\nLay Freedom on the sand:\\nThe God of Promise^ as of old,\\nHad vanished from the land.\\nThen trouble not the gloom with prayer\\nSaid unavailingly.\\nBut strike with fury, scorning care.\\nDie unbewailingly.\\n54\\n1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "Rebels\\n[Written on the adoption by sub-Sovereign Otis\\nof the policy of court-martialing and shooting Fili-\\npino patriots as traitors to their American mother-\\ncountry. It will be decreed that guerilla fighters\\nare murderers.]\\nDeath, death, to the Philippine foe!\\nHeed not, hear not, their cries of woe!\\nRebel sires shall be mown low,\\nSons their blood in base grave sow.\\nHold, Lord, the Orient Isles!\\nMagical craft and soldiers wiles.\\nThrough fever swamp and hell s defiles.\\nBlack night of pestilential trials!\\nThousands dead and charred their homes,\\nManiac devastation roams.\\nRed guerilla warfare gloams,\\nHate infernal livid foams.\\n55", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "Suicide stalks throughout the camp,\\nInfinite fire of fever cramp;\\nDeath moves by with evil tramp,\\nPeace no Godhead can revamp.\\nMadness storms the soldiers brain,\\nFiends and fury, leaden rain!\\nLife s last agonizing strain\\nFades in lunacy s refrain.\\nBrand the patriots, have them shot!\\nTreason, murder, guerilla plot!\\nToss them in courtmartial pot!\\nHangman s halter and let them rot!\\n56", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "Man\\nO give me a day on the wide sea beach,\\nA day in the woodland deep,\\nWhere the cruel roar of civilized man\\nIs lulled for the time to sleep.\\nO let me sail from tne land away,\\nAway in the infinite night.\\nTo gather breath in the peace beyond.\\nIn the foaming storm of flight.\\nWord shot back from the Isle Despair,\\nShot back with raving wail,\\nSail to the West, sail to the East,\\nYour fiery search will fail.\\nFor ever above the beautiful boom\\nOf nature s wild health note\\nRe-echoes the growl of a chosen doom\\nFrom the savage human throat.\\n57", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "Tyrants of the Republic\\nAre there no tyrants in a land republican in name?\\nNo foes of human liberty accursed, unashamed?\\nWe have them that abash the Turk in cruelty and\\ngreed;\\nUncrowned, but with envenomed dirk they ravish\\nhuman need.\\nThe man that holds a nation s wealth in bound\\nmonopoly,\\nThat man s remorseless emperor, king absolute is\\nhe.\\nOld kings are held by silent chains in aged cus-\\ntom wrought.\\nBut the Lord of Concentrated Wealth pays fealty\\nto naught.\\nNo conflict of the centuries has sheared his wax-\\ning power,\\nHe is, through error of the gods, Liberty s highest\\nflower;\\nHe governs with the fiction rod of equal human\\nrights.\\nThe right to take his brother s all and kill him if\\nhe fights.\\n58", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "We were not born of heavenly gods, divinely-\\ncharged to rule,\\nBut are the simple mould and clay of wise man\\nand of fool.\\nIf we then mount the clouds and grind our coun-\\ntrymen to chaff,\\nThey shall in ashes bow their heads with thank-\\nfulness and laugh.\\nIf each man has a right to earn the planet for\\nhis own,\\nThere obviously is no wrong to those who miss\\nthe boon;\\nTheir duty, having lost the game, is meekly to sit\\ndown\\nAnd be the footstool of the few who won the\\nwandering crown.\\nTo cry injustice on the heads of those whose\\nlucky toil\\nSecures dominion of the earth as fair commercial\\nspoil.\\nIs quite beneath the chivalry of men who give\\nand take.\\nE en tho the give turns out to be a leaded-dice\\nmistake.\\n59", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "It would be right to punish us if we were named\\nThe King,\\nBut since we are just citizen the slaves our\\npraises sing:\\nBehold our mighty ones! they cry, in amorous\\necstacy,\\nLet them abide, by Fortune s grace the lucky\\nhad been we!\\nTo this our free Republic the tyrant has returned,\\nBlacker, meaner, more desperate than him of old\\nwe spurned.\\nTear down this tyrant from the height he has at-\\ntained in crime.\\nThere shall be freedom here again, again be right\\nsublime.\\n60", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "Who Save the World\\nTwo peoples war today for human worth,\\nWhile near twelve hundred million mouthers are\\nDetoning periods on the sneering air,\\nOf Freedom stretching past the planet s girth:\\nHigh-nurtured heroes in the spirit-waste,\\nThe Boers, majestic, solemn, eminent, free,\\nWithstanding England at Thermopylae,\\nAnd Luzon warriors fighting this disgraced\\nRepublic, contaminate tomb of Liberty,\\nWhere God-born principles have been effaced.\\nGrand is the page of Holland in the bright\\nImmortal portaiture of tyrants flight!\\nProtect us, Luzon sable sons of youth,\\nWho bring through death triumphancy for truth.\\n61", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "f\\nThe Workingman s Opportunity\\nThe workingman who heretofore has cringed,\\nThe mockery and sorrow of mankind,\\nA Caliban with partial human mind\\nAnd every right and attribute infringed,\\nIn primal being from the world uptorn\\nHolds now the chance of ages in his hand,\\nHolds by the throat the tyrants that have damned,\\nThe infamous crew that have the purple worn.\\nHe can throw down the buttressed robber clan\\nThat has assailed the righteous Philippines,\\nCrush under that rapacious type of man\\nOn which the coward president falsely leans.\\nUnited Labor rushing to the van\\nCan save itself and this vile nation cleanse.\\n62", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "This Dying Country\\nWhen I behold the country that I love\\nFast to the death-grip of the millionaire,\\nWhose savagery conceives no checks or bounds,\\nI marvel at the fabric of my race.\\nOur freedom, offspring of a thousand years.\\nIs tamely rendered up to please the brutes;\\nThe multitude bewail with jaws agape.\\nDeeds they could throttle down with one swift\\nblow;\\nTheir resolution is enchained by fears\\nThat shame the courage of a little child.\\nAnd to this crime the good are partisan.\\nFor they with ethic cowardly and cheap\\nMorality pretentious but unreal\\nCry hush to every keen unscabbard d word,\\nAnd speak, good sir, with mildness, for effect;\\nAbstention cultivate, and on the granite\\nFeelings of the steel-cased rich walk softly;\\n63", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "Attack their fortress with a bow and arrow,\\nThe gentle politicians with tin horns.\\nThey mean well; truth without a coat is vile,\\nLike human flesh audaciously unclothed.\\nIt s better far to keep the truth at home\\nThan let it roam and rampage in its shirt.\\nj\\nSo speak the good with wily wise intent\\nTo risk no business bones of their s in wrestle\\nWith dangerous foes, th embattled millionaires.\\nPoliteness sweet is worth a roll of gold,\\nA place, a dinner party, or a vote.\\nTo throw away which for the country s sake\\nIs folly, crude, unripe, pernicious, insolent.\\nThere once were men enamored so of truth\\nThey told it like th uncringing cannon ball\\nWhich speeds its course without polite deflection;\\nEnamored so of high sweet liberty\\nThey cut their tyrants down with words of steel.\\nWith our dwarfed souls we cannot touch their\\nknees.\\nThat lusty virile generation dead.\\nWe in their places stalk like tonsured ghosts,\\nDischarged from universal obligation.\\nBe courteous to your lynchman, is our law,\\nTo the highwayman shooting out our brains,\\nA courtesy that spreads us in the grave\\nAnd deeds our traitored country to the fiends.\\n64", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "And yet there may be living iron ore\\nIn rocks uncultured by the acid world.\\nThere may be souls today in embryo\\nOf such titanic size and fashioning\\nThat the frail tissues of deformed words,\\nEnchaining principles with temperate smirks,\\nWill fall before their impendin:; scornful strokes.\\nAnd this great world, enslaved to forms and\\nsounds.\\nBurst free and tread its orbit in the real.\\n65", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "McKinley s Cabinet Meeting\\nWith haggard eyes our solons rack\\nTheir brains: Gage, Alger, Smith, Long, Mack,\\nThat Smith, the tyrant of the mails.\\nWho robs the post and pamphlets steals,\\nOur little country to protect\\nFrom Aguinaldo s fierce elect.\\nThe awful Griggs, the rhyme of pigs.\\nFor liberty cares not two figs;\\nHe says he ll hang the horrid devil\\nThat helps the Filipino rebel.\\nJohn Long who propagates our ships,\\nFlounders in millions to his hips;\\nThe people pay a pretty bill\\nTo eat the bitter fruit of hell.\\nBut after Mack the greatest quack\\nIs Alger, curse the day alack.\\nWhen that poor toadlet of the war\\nDrank gore and made the people pour\\nTheir lives upon his smelling altar\\nWhose neck should now be in a halter.\\nBut Mack insists he s pure and good.\\nAnd Eagan, too, and that canned food.\\nAnd would not let his Algy go\\nTo save the land from war and woe.\\n66", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "For Mack would cut the nation s throat\\nTo get a presidency vote.\\nAmong these sages is John Hay,\\nV/ho followed one named Billy Day.\\nThese fellows gather in a meeting,\\nThey bow and smirk the country greeting.\\nMACK.\\nWise men, from every part selected,\\nIf I can be again elected,\\nI promise you fat pay and office,\\nInfluence, consequence and soft place.\\nHelp me out of this horrible muddle,\\nCuban and Filipino puddle.\\nI thought I would have a walk-away.\\nBanners, dances, jigs and play.\\nWith the pigmies over the briny way.\\nWho show fiends fighting to stay,\\nAnd pinch my ankles, legs and thighs,\\nAs if they were somewhere near my size\\nI thought I was fighting a little cock,\\nBut I seem to have struck a living rock.\\nNow this won t do, I must eschew\\nSuch cruelty and cry and hue,\\nOr my vexed people will repent,\\nResent and on me anger vent.\\nAnd kick me to oblivion s murk\\nWhere I shouldn t be able to breathe or smirk,\\nHaving stood on the world s high pinnacle\\nAnd seemed to be vast and inimical\\nTo the rights of a few little copper ants\\nWhose manners are such they don t wear pants.\\n67", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "But they ll put me out of the presidency,\\nFor the dumb and the blind begin to see\\nThat I made this war for my renown\\nIn which I confess I was a clown.\\nJust think! McKinley, Emperor\\nOf America, Cuba and Asier!\\nLord Peter! If I could get that title\\nI d do any cursed thing that might ll\\nAccomplish within the brief sad span\\nA term in the White House gives a man!\\nI d make a dozen peoples slaves,\\nI d fill a million million graves,\\nHa! Ha! I ve filled up several now,\\nSome soldiers have gone to the Old Bowwow!\\nBut Napoleon One killed more than I;\\nI weep to think he climbed so high\\nAnd leaves me straddling on the wind\\nWith the reputation of having sinned.\\nBut damn! Excuse, I m a Methodist,\\nYet I can t endure the popular fist\\nWhich cuffs and buffets my noble cheek\\nUntil with the wrath of hell I reek.\\nI d like the American throat to cut.\\nThat makes me a spectacle and butt\\nBut I see I wander, my mind grows dim,\\nI ve lost my spunk and hope and vim\\nSince, aspiring to be a Napoleon.\\nI feel and am mis rably sat upon\\nBy the scum of the earth whom I despise\\nBut must cater to to get the prize.\\nO God! Was it you that set this trap\\nAnd made me dream to enlarge the map?\\n68", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "I thought it would help the Methodist Church,\\nBut you seem to have left me in the lurch.\\nI wander again; is my whole mind gone\\nSince I put my principles in pawn?\\nI think I had some once, eh. Hay?\\nA poet like you says what he may.\\nBut henchmen, followers, vassals true,\\nThrow me a straw in this hot stew,\\nPull me ashore from this sea of gore;\\nOf Imperialism, hush, no more.\\nIf I only knew where I was at,\\nAnd didn t feel like a drowning rat!\\nGriggs, you re a lawyer, what are you for\\nIf in this hades you can t do more\\nThan call men traitors and stop the mails,\\nYou and Smith there? and if that fails\\nMy goose is cooked and I am booked\\nFor derision cunningly barbed and hooked.\\nSpeak up, if you would an emperor make me,\\nOut of this lethargy retake me.\\nChancellors of my coming Court,\\nFix me a dose of shrewd retort\\nFor the drabs who talk of the Constitution,\\nAnd Liberty in dissolution.\\nALGER.\\nMost noble master, I ve a plaster\\nA woman can use when one has sassed her.\\nEx pardon, a woman you re not, I know,\\nBut the leering country will have it so.\\nLet pass, for it certainly doesn t matter,\\nIf you get whatever is on the platter.\\n69", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "My plan is this: provoke more wars,\\nStir up the Cuban till he roars,\\nDon t lick the Philippines in a hurry,\\nBut go it slow and let the war worry\\nOur anti-warriors till they yield\\nA standing army and naval shield,\\nWith which you can smash their liberties\\nAnd Philippine freedom coolly freeze.\\nAn empire needs an army of size.\\nThen mortified freedom droops and dies.\\nMcKINLEY.\\nBrave Alger, you have spoken well,\\nIt shall be done, I ll crack the knell\\nOf every American institution\\nWith an army bloated for revolution.\\nNow Smith, they say you ve got a brain.\\nShow that it isn t yet distrain.\\nSMITH.\\nYour Majesty, I ve a little plan\\nBecoming the mind of a little man.\\nIt s simple but drastic, Sire, you know\\nTo the root of the trouble I ll go below.\\nPut shackles on the Anti press.\\nArrest, and make their dough a mess.\\nMcKINLEY.\\nMy mind approves, I ll name you lord\\nOf several counties for your word.\\nLord Smith, or Lord what shall it be?\\nPrepare to arrest for lese me.\\nWho s next? You Griggs? Come to the scratch;\\nYou must lay an infernal egg to hatch.\\nGRIGGS.\\nI ll do it. Serene and Excellent,\\nOr of my birthday will repent.\\n70", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "I ll go one better than Emory Smith,\\nMy scheme possesses a nasty pith;\\nWould dub each anti-expansionist\\nA traitor, and on his criminal wrist\\nHandcuffs would lock, his tongue to block;\\nWould eradicate the ghastly flock\\nOf treason-breeders and talkers glib,\\nWho poke the galleries in the rib\\nAnd tell them to mind their ps and qs\\nOr all possessions you will fuse\\nInto your slick imperial crown.\\nOver the corpses you have sown.\\nTreason s the v/ord to fling broadcast,\\nHang up the traitors to the mast,\\nPut them in prison, hiss and shoot,\\nDig them out by the trunk and root!\\nNever a man who thinks his thought\\nShall live in the empire you have wrought.\\nDon t fear, dear Caesar, strike them quick,\\nHound them to death with shaft and prick;\\nThen you will ride a placid realm,\\nWhich you will steer with a gatling helm.\\nMcKINLEY.\\nDuke Griggs, you re a creature of solid gold.\\nBorn of the fiends in sheol bold.\\nHerewith I do Your Grace empower\\nTo make the dogs my enemies cower.\\nLynch them, torture them, hunt them down,\\nUnder the cover of legal gown;\\nThrottle the press, garrote the book,\\nGibbet the speaker that dares to look\\nSidewise at my doings, and you I ll give\\nA State for your dukedom to help you live.\\n71", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "GRIGGS.\\n(Bowing his head on the cabinet carpet.)\\nWorshipful, vast, adorable Chief,\\nYour s be the glory of my fief.\\nMcKINLEY.\\n(With growing confidence.)\\nHo, Hay, and what have you to offer?\\nThere must be coin in your mind s coffer.\\nHAY.\\nHuge symbol of Divinity,\\nMajestic shoot of eternity,\\nSprung from the gods by gods sustained,\\nBack to the gods sometime to wend,\\nA god yourself in attribute.\\nImmortal essence of the loot\\nMcKINLEY (interrupting).\\nI name you poet laureate,\\nRide with me the wings of Fate,\\nSing my deeds when I repose,\\nLie about my crimes and woes.\\nHAY.\\nI will, sweet Sovereign, Sun and Light,\\nYour goodness locks my conscience tight.\\nBut now my plan, a statesman s word\\nAttend, and act when you have heard.\\nIf worst runs on the heels of worst\\nIn this exalted drama curst,\\nThis avalanchal escapade,\\nWhere flirting fortune is a jade,\\nAnd all the winds of azure heaven\\nPlay devil with the magic seven\\n72", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "Mckinley.\\nJohn, as a poet I respect you,\\nBut this imperial fever and ague\\nHas loosed the staples of my mind,\\nAnd to your thought meseems I m blind.\\nHAY.\\nPardon poetry pragmatic,\\nI spoke in riddles diplomatic.\\nI ve been to England do remember,\\nAnd came home only last December.\\nPlain, uncultured prose to speak,\\nSlap some Power on the cheek.\\nHave another war with Europe:\\nThat ll make the Yankees whoop up\\nBattleships and fine battalions\\nBy the ten or twenty millions;\\nThey ll forget in half a jiffy\\nThat they were a little miffy\\nWhen you baked the Eastern pie,\\nThat they heaved a gentle sigh\\nOf reproach and contumely.\\nWith their conscience vain and steely\\nThey ll go mad and patriotic.\\nWar will make them idiotic;\\nProof of this our Spanish tussle,\\nWhich created such a bustle\\nAnd upset the nation s heart\\nLike a corner apple-cart.\\nMcKINLEY (beaming).\\nGood John, your words pontifical\\nLift from my mind the fatal spell\\nOf fear and feeble hesitation\\n73", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "At courting ruin for the nation.\\nUnloose the war-dogs and the blast\\nOf rumbling cannon through the planet:\\nBy this tremendous ruse I ll plan it\\nTo pass this mighty nation s checks in,\\nOr make myself its mighty rex in.\\nPlace of Republican hollow forms,\\nAlready gnawed by trusts and worms,\\nI ll stake the country s worthless life\\nTo get a crown for me and wife;\\nI ll stir my people up to crush a\\nFoe like Germany or Russia;\\nAbout a million well-armed men\\nWill be our private army then,\\nAnd I the lord and chief despotic\\nOver America neurotic.\\n(McKinley pauses. A cloud comes over his face.\\nHe stands with head bent looking fiercely at the\\nfloor in the attitude used by Napoleon in such\\ncases.)\\nJOHN LONG (timidly).\\nHath some uncouth rebellious phantom\\nChallenged Your Highness like a bantam?\\nMcKINLEY.\\nTis this: I know not how to ravish\\nThe people to a war so lavish.\\nThey ll fight a little paltry power\\nLike Spain or Aggie any hour,\\nBut Russia s quite a different nation\\nTo tackle without provocation.\\nMy people certainly l object,\\nFor fear they may get shortly licked.\\n74", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "We must a trick and trap combine\\nTo bring their folly into line.\\nI see none, that I will admit;\\nAnd if you can t I ll have a fit.\\n(All are silent and a heavy gloom settles down\\non the cabinet.)\\nMcKINLEY (brightening suddenly).\\nHa! Singular I never thought on t\\nTo have the mighty Hanna brought on t!\\nRun Griggs or Smith, whiche er s the fleetest,\\nSummon our Warwick him that beatest.\\nHANNA.\\n(Enters, followed by Smith and Griggs out of\\nbreath. Speaks.)\\nI m called here to disperse distraction.\\nBeing a man of brain and action.\\nThe trouble will I quickly settle\\nWith double use of leaden metal.\\nWe must create some labor mobs\\nTo give the military jobs;\\nThe cords of labor bind on tighter\\nTo make the workingman a fighter.\\nIn every quarter of the land\\nI ll agitate the bloody hand:\\nRiots will make the timid howl\\nAnd cry for an army with a growl.\\nI know the way, for medal and pay\\nThe soldier will shoot his friends all day\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nParticularly the working man.\\nWho worships the god, a dinner-can.\\nBetter than foreign war by far\\nIs a bloody domestic labor jar.\\n75", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "Mckinley (aside).\\n(This godless creature would be king;\\nMust put his bull neck in a ring.)\\n(Aloud, to Hanna.)\\nSalt of my soul, henceforth shalt own\\nEach workingman and stock and stone\\nWithin the cosmos of the bullets\\nWarmed up for their digestive gullets.\\n(Ceases speaking, is ill at ease, rubs his hands\\nand cracks his fingers to escape Hanna s magnetic\\neye. A cold sweat dampens his fabrics. Sees Root\\nand blurts out:)\\nNow there comes Root, a little coot,\\nDisposed to make the Tagal scoot.\\nI like the name of Elihu,\\nIt runs so well with hack and hew.\\nNow, Elly, give us your advice,\\nWith smokeless powder as a spice.\\nROOT.\\nGreat diner out and eater in,\\nYour maw shall have the Philippine; i\\nI promise fifty darkey legs\\nAs tender, young as soft poached eggs;\\nYour murky brain shall have a tonic.\\nOur butcher shop is economic\\nA carcass CQmes in every minute,\\nI ll set my office clerks to skin it.\\nI see your gastronomic fervor\\nIs called a liberty preserver;\\nIt eats a bushel big of livers\\nWhereat the Constitution shivers.\\n76\\n1\\nn", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "To consecrate your roasting volleys\\nAnd\\nMckinley (black and blue).\\nYou seem to say I am a glutton\\nExceeding fond of Eastern mutton.\\nIf you propose your job to keep,\\nYou d better think such things asleep.\\nThis studio air is getting rancid,\\nRoot s not the fellow that I fancied.\\nROOT.\\nOh hear me out, Benignant Purple,\\nI ll make the Christian Mausers hurtle.\\nMcKINLEY.\\nThis cabinet council I adjourn,\\nAll words of rosy promise spurn.\\nWho brings me Aguinaldo s head-\\nConvincing proof that he is dead\\nIs heir apparent to my crown.\\nTill Hanna bids me haul him down.\\n77", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "Chains of Republican Empire\\nA century ago\\nMen thought of kings as children s government,\\nIrrevocably barred from modern shores;\\nSafe plays for sickly nobles, cranium bent,\\nInfatuate generals, filtered breeds of bores.\\nThat we should contemplate a king,\\nThe half our manhood bartering.\\nBackward in time the new world fling.\\nHushing the song that free men sing.\\nNo child of this swelling continent\\nCould have believed, could have achieved.\\nNor does the mass accept it now,\\nTis but the rich man s vulgar vow.\\nMade audibly.\\nTo yoke us like the ploughman s cow,\\nTo drive us on through time and space\\nLike peasants on Italian soil,\\nLike peasants robbed of soul and soil,\\nThe homeless shadows of the place\\nThey once possessed, they once caressed.\\nAnd with obtuseness rivaling the dead\\nWe strap the yoke upon our bovine head.\\n78", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "A hundred years of uncrowned government\\nAre but as yesterday within the span\\nWhereon the struggle of the captive man\\nTo unthrone kings, worn, ages-spent,\\nRecords his groveling since time began.\\nAnd his success, so mean, so tentative,\\nSo late fulfilled, in poor imperative.\\nUpon the liquorish putty of his mind\\nMakes no more memory than wings on air,\\nAnd he remains as apish, ancient, blind,\\nAs his arboreal ancestors,\\nToo young to care.\\nEmpire is still our natural state,\\nAs screams and creeping to the child.\\nAs prey to beast famished and wild\\nAnd this is what we mean by Fate.\\nBut children grow, and some have crossed the line\\nWhere screams and kings seem natural and fine;\\nYet most grown men are balanced on the fence,\\nEv n less discerning whither than whence.\\nThe gift of freedom handed them\\nBy generations lost in night,\\nIs like the wealth of gilded wight,\\nAn everlasting diadem\\nThat reckless hand cannot exhaust.\\nThat even by fools cannot be lost.\\nThey fancy this.\\nIs not our freedom fixed and firm?\\nThey ask, with laughter loose and free;\\nIs not in us the only germ\\nOf sacred, self-made liberty?\\n79", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "No, for in will you are infirm,\\nYou yield and give, you do not see\\nThat presidents may still be kings\\nThrough forms once held in infamy.\\nForms are as thongs which bind the ruler down,\\nBut neither form nor thong,\\nHow beautiful or strong,\\nActs of itself unguidedly\\nIn automatic stead of brain and brawn;\\nAnd we have lost our pristine enmity for wrong\\nAnd idly hope the thongs will work and walk.\\nDoing their duty while we lag and talk.\\nWe learned our thoughts on human rule\\nFrom bandit empires far amain;\\nFrom England^ stain incarnadine\\nOn even Europe s bloody sheen,\\nWhere unobstructed customs reign\\nThe ancient birth of slave and fool.\\nAnd if the people least relax\\nTheir fiery care of right and law,\\nThese forms subserve the tyrant s role,\\nAnd what of right and justice lacks\\nFor gaining of th imperial goal.\\nHe takes from legal form and haw.\\nIn name alone republican.\\nWe never contemplated wealth\\nTransferred from all to several,\\nWe never dreamed a nation s health\\nCould long survive this wily ill.\\nTo the low frozen social state.\\nThe barren soil of brutes and kings,\\nWe now return degenerate,\\n80\\nI\\n4\\ni", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "A nation sunk to underlings.\\nOn people dead to solemn rights,\\nTo what is theirs through force of toil,\\nThe curse of slavery re-alights\\nAnd dying kingship will recoil.\\nImagine not in broad contempt of truth\\nThat we above senility are raised,\\nEmblazoning the muscle-marks of youth\\nTo prove our mental strength is rightly praised.\\nFor in the land we brag above the skies,\\nEnraptured that it is of chiseled rock.\\nThere grows and grows a lower human breed.\\nThat beastlier form of impure human stock,\\nWhich in all lands seems destined still to rise\\nAnd cloud the dawning sun on heaven s face\\nWhich to the wise is this enchanted globe\\nWhenever the curse of dominant brute is laid\\nJust at the moment when the riper grace\\nOf those who love and think would rend the robe\\nAnd show us to ourselves, and show this ball\\nUnfrocked of those, half man, half animal.\\nWhose not yet human hopes, to power and wealth\\nconfined,\\nAbsorb insatiably the human all.\\nThis semi-type of brute.\\nThe wealth-devourers of our race,\\nThe sateless gourmands of the meek\\nAnd inarticulate denizens\\nOf envied unowned space,\\nA-tremxble for the good they seek\\nIn piping timid orisons,\\n81", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "Lest by the rude and undersized\\nIt be contemptuously despised;\\nThe dispossessed of confidence\\nIn even fheir right to common sense;\\nQuaking the while they pray to God,\\nKnowing that prayer is whispered fraud\\nWhile all innate capacities\\nOf earth and nature, force and skies.\\nBelong by right of pen and sword.\\nOf vapory antiquated word,\\nOf parchment, law and constitution,\\nCrime and swifter absolution,\\nChurch, morality and science,\\nSong and teaching and self-reliance,\\nTo those but one-half man^\\nThis type of semi-brutes\\nStands stubborn guardian of the blood-drenched\\npast.\\nIts deadly grip on further progress fast.\\nIn all things all-omnipotent\\nBecause its shrewd possession of\\nThe springs from which life flows.\\nThe wealth in waich life rose\\nTo that degree of leisured thought.\\nTo that possession of repose\\nWhich gave the soul its impetus.\\nWhich raised it from the fear and fuss\\nOf vanquishing unsleeping foes\\nTo gain a modicum of food,\\nBeyond it to conceive of naught,\\nRemands the comelier of mankind.\\nThose more indubitably man,\\nBack to the state from which they came,\\n82", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "The bitter struggle without vent,\\nThe search for simple nourishment,\\nThe sad imbruting prison game\\nOf lifting stones through life s whole span.\\nTis here we meet the mystery\\nWith fearful miracle replete,\\nTh illusion in the comelier kind,\\nThe lie they never have divined.\\nThe lie that life s fair heritage\\nAnd increment from every age,\\nMay be detained in privacy\\nAnd garnered everlastingly\\nBy those with rudimental soul,\\nIncapable to know the whole\\nOf the grand scheme of human things,\\nIn which man s sphered life gladly sings,\\nWhen what is sacredly its own\\nIs not in profligacy sown\\nBy robber fools with heart of stone.\\n83", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "There is Still Health in the\\nDesert\\nI.\\nWhy do these singular Boers humiliate\\nEngland s crack general sports and liveried nobs,\\nBuller, Gatacre, Kitchener, and, er, Bobs,\\nForests of British soldiers, tons in weight\\nOf golden British lubricating pounds,\\nConvoyed in stately fleets by Justice steered.\\nAnd a God and a half, as conscience-ballast, feared?\\nII.\\nEngland, the cowboy of the East and West,\\nIn whiskey soaked and sottish in its gold,\\nWith dirk and pistol in its boots and vest,\\nAnd bullion nose both prominent and bold.\\nRides blusteringly to make a general round up\\nOf human cattle in its annual pound up.\\nWith one eye gone, sans teeth, and minus crest.\\nIt hobbles disenchanted from the ground up.\\nIII.\\nTell us the cause, ye stars, ye gods, ye Boers,\\nOf this amazed confounding circumstance.\\nWhere snorting snobs perform the pistol-dance\\nBeneath the calm eye of the timely boors.\\nIt s worth a lifelong perigrination\\nTo learn the spell of this merry thin nation.\\n84\\nf", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "IV.\\nAbout three centuries ago or so,\\nMiss England made a bargain with the Devil.\\nHer soul was then not large enough to go\\nAbout unchaperoned by saint or imp ill.\\nBeing by nature frisky and perverse\\nShe married herself in secret to the worse,\\nOn solemn promise she should speedily get her fill\\nOf what is usually stuffed in a purse.\\nShe stipulated in the ceremony\\nThat her new spouse should coil his telling tail,\\nNor ever leap the tropic Stygian rail\\nExcept in decent garb of God or money.\\nThe Devil had no vanity about him\\nWhen he could propagate his special doctrine;\\nHis Majesty therefore of course consented,\\nAnd Mrs. England never has repented.\\nHe dressed himself like Christ without a sin,\\nAnd lined the suit with gold and carnal vim.\\nV.\\nSince then the dame has known connubial blisses,\\nTho seldom taken for a married Mrs.\\nNor has she sued the Devil for divorce\\nOn grounds of ill support or of remorse.\\nHe ploughs the planet up to richly feed her,\\nYou d think the cunning Fiend must surely need\\nher\\nTo carry out his Eve and Eden crotchet.\\nAnd have a deputy on earth to watch it.\\nVI.\\nWith faithful wife s enthralled precocity\\nFair England copied all her Devil did.\\nEven the Christ-clothes in which his claws were\\nhid,\\n85", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "And scaled perfection with velocity.\\nShe learned to be a deuced pious robber\\nAnd with Jesus-mask held up the Universe;\\nTo defend herself against a straggling curse\\nBuilt a church and put a parson in to slobber.\\nWent to hell upon a queenly visitation\\nTo inspect the Devil s educated wards;\\nFound in hell a classic double population,\\nUpper class of landed gentry and the lords,\\nAnd a cultivated multipated mixture\\nOf inventors of machinery and swords.\\nThese I say it without bitterness or stricture.\\nWe must love the Devil and always speak him\\nsweet,\\nFor it s rough to call the Devil names and hit him,\\nSome dark midnight in an alley we may meet\\nThese the highest classes were that hell affords.\\nHow the Devil had conceived a home to fit him.\\nStudied England, virgin and discreet.\\nVII.\\nThe machinery of Hades had a mission.\\nManaged by the aristocracy of hell,\\nTo intensify the anguish and affliction\\nOf the damned and under classes as they fell.\\nAnd the beauty of this devil institution\\nMaiden England studied lovingly and well.\\nHow the damned and fallen progeny of Adam,\\nFiercely burning in the everlasting fat.\\nFor the sin of contradicting those above em,\\nBlew the bellows and pumped oil in the vat;\\nToiled and cooked themselves, and turned for ap-\\nprobation\\nTo the Demon owners of the hell-machine; J\\n86 t", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "Gladly felt the torture-fangs of dissolution\\nIf the owners watched them fry and heard them\\nscream.\\nAnd this bodied vision of her husband s dream\\nThe social art of this demonic scheme,\\nMaiden England studied lovingly and well.\\nVIII.\\nWith an inspiration nothing less than Christian,\\nSobered, solemned and a little archly aged.\\nHaving started for the damned a soup subscription,\\nAnd the concentrated look of one that s saged.\\nSoaring home upon His Highness gallant flipper.\\nIn such safety passing through the Dog and Dip-\\nper,\\nSet she then with diligence about applying\\nThe consummate secret she had learned in Hell\\nHow to mould her people with the art of lying.\\nAnd of mighty dividends to get a swell.\\nWith the skilled co-operation of the Master,\\nWith her avarice progressing ever faster,\\nWith oblique stupidity to ever last her.\\nIn the bloody sea of capital she cast her.\\nIX.\\nTwas not long before the frisky froward virgin\\nHad her azure island modeled as below.\\nAnd the decent people in it most vergin\\nOn the pathos and the salience of woe;\\nAristocracy benignantly a-scourgin\\nThe Democracy to make the engines go.\\nFar aloft, upon the smoke and curling hate,\\nSits the Devil, softly smiling, mixing Fate.\\n87", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "X.\\nWe ll leave him busy at his chemistry,\\nFor biologic question difficult,\\nAnd geologic problem more occult\\nThan stirring sour acids two or three.\\nOur question is, what came of England s soul\\nIn these three hundred years of deviltry?\\nTwill need a very microscopic eye\\nTo find that thing in heaven, or hedge, or hole.\\nHer soul, it died, and perpendicular fell\\nUntil it reached the upper crust of hell.\\nEternally expecting there to dwell,\\nKissed by its royal lover now and then\\nA virtuous wife knows seldom if or when.\\nBut I ve a marv lous wonder now to tell:\\nThe ugly little soul expired again!\\nThere died, that is, its more immortal puissance,\\nAnd thus removed a universal nuisance.\\nA soul quite normally can never die,\\nBut when it s festered through and through with\\nlie\\nLike England s, tneither has hell-fat to fry.\\nNor lucent elasticity to laugh\\nAnd make hell s lower classes writhe and cry.\\nXI.\\nBut garish England, courted by the Devil,\\nNeeded no soul, and was no moping rebel\\nTo that prophetic circumstance\\nWhich killed her conscience in advance.\\nAnd left her body free to dance\\nUpon the graves of all her sons\\nDestroyed by merchantry or guns.\\nBesides, the Devil filled her head with notions,\\nWho formerly had fined her soul with potions:\\n88", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "A soul is a commodity\\nSupercilious for you or me:\\nJust look at hell, how well it thrives\\nOn other people s souls and wives.\\nWhen I fell down from Heaven ejected,\\nMy soul by God like tooth extracted,\\nTwas thought by several in the Universe\\nThat I vvas then in a very petit hearse.\\nBut I ve succeeded in my business\\nAnd even troubled God with dizziness.\\nI never knew real gratification\\nUntil that fortunate stratification\\nClassed my soul and bouy apart\\nAnd left my muscles without a heart.\\nXII.\\nLook at me, angel devil, I mean,\\nPride of the Sages you have seen!\\nHere in myself are concentrated\\nEvery good thing the ^ges fated!\\nI am supreme, I am the dream,\\nThe absolute, infinite, perfect scheme,\\nGrown from the forces that sway the spaces\\nAnd keep the Universe in its traces.\\nGive your imagination flight.\\nMount your fancy on stars and light;\\nStretch your mind on a bed of kites\\nFastened to Jupiter s satellites;\\nWaft your thoughts to Saturn s bai.\\nCatch her rings before you fall.\\nIf sap of science is in your make up\\nGive it an Oxford champagne shake up;\\nBring your wits from hunting foxes\\nTo thinly think through college proxies.\\n89", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "Give your lords responsible places\\nTo fail in, with their mutton faces.\\nFor instance, let them go to sleep\\nIn the heart of an African Boer creep,\\nWhere scouts and sentinels are not needed\\nSince Bobs e s brains were ne er exceeded.\\nYou know that Low Dutch strategy\\nA gartery Lord s too swell to see!\\nYour brimming bourgeoisotic graces,\\nLegacy from lower races.\\nRelic of the nether spaces\\nFrom which man emerged triumphant\\nAs a protoplasmic lump scant\\nOf all the virtues in the brine\\nBut those of England s upper ten\\nThey fabulously suck and swallow\\nWhat others make and sadly mellow\\nArouse to make you comprehend\\nThe devil s blessing I extend!\\nIf more is needed, take a dose\\nOf English manners caught morose.\\nYour wanton mind must be impounded.\\nOf demon s thought to be surrounded;\\nFor one debauchery-bemuddled\\nAnd gold-inebriation fuddled,\\nIs difficult to stimulate\\nOr mentally to impregnate.\\nXIII.\\nIf your mighty cerebellum s swelled to cracking.\\nTo discharge my vital spark there s nothing lack-\\ning.\\nThe secret that I now surrender,\\n90", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "Earth s and hell s consummate blender,\\nDone by me and generated,\\nShall by you be venerated.\\nProudly, loudly I confess,\\nI, the Devil, am Success!\\nWhere success exalted shimmers.\\nIn the mess my hissing simmers.\\nAnd the potence of my magic.\\nWhich men estimate, as tragic.\\nIs that where my soul existed\\nNature s flint is now encysted.\\nIn the cauldrons that I govern\\nThere is not a single love urn:\\nSoul is love in flesh disporting.\\nBrimstone murders Love in courting.\\nTrue love never wore the dress\\nOf the slattern named Success.\\nTo succeed you kill your lover,\\nSoul and aspiration smother.\\nBlossom out a cosmic Judas,\\nEared and evermore a crude ass.\\nIn this soulless, loveless essence.\\nHave you Hell in punctured presence.\\nAs I said once on a time before in chattin\\nUpon a mountain with a Jew in Latin,\\nThe Kingdoms of the Earth shall be your dinner\\nNow that your mummied soul can die no skinnier.\\nGo to, and grab the Mongol, Black, and Bear,\\nSuccess and hell attend you everywhere.\\nXIV.\\nFor three good centuries old England throve\\nWithout a soul, and built a giant frame\\n91", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "Of property that, like the Bebel tovv^er,\\nRose up and interviewed the stars, and drove\\nHer rivals mad with spite, making them cower\\nLike paupered tramps before her bonded shame.\\nAll envied, hated and despised the beast,\\nAnd prayed to God that they might share the feast.\\nThey knew that England was a bloated liar,\\nAnd sought to bloat themselves as much or more,\\nThereby to swallow her, legs, ears and roar.\\nAnd get themselves equipped to lie still higher.\\nThey quickly learned the art of lying.\\nAnd on its windy bladders took to flying;\\nBut with their feelings were so deeply freighted,\\nThe bladders balked, and merely kicked and\\nwaited.\\nTheir pates of tow and crates of woe were puzzled.\\nTheir canine teeth and wallet jaws were muzzled.\\nWitch England, far above them, lied and sailed;\\nThey lied below and tried again and failed.\\nTill one exploded from behind his beer mug:\\nFarewell my soul, this is thy last fond dear hug!\\nThen threw his soul upon the shrinking ground\\nAnd bladdered heavenward with a fearful bound.\\nEach took his soul out of his breeches pocket\\nAs one would draw an eye out of its socket,\\nAnd flung it hard upon a cruel rock\\nTo kill it dead and out of misery take it.\\nTo their astonishment it didn t break it,\\nBut the poor stone was shattered by the shock.\\nUpward they soared to wend among the comets.\\nAs sick to see as one that virtue vomits.\\n92", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "XV.\\nThe good dame England had a mighty offspring\\nwhose\\nPapa was said to be one Washington.\\nIts homely habits and gigantic thews\\nAnd cunning pertinacity to choose\\nGood company itself and always shun\\nThe fireside hearth where ma and devil chatted,\\nFinding in their concupiscence and wooings\\nNo source of family pride or filial fun;\\nTho seeing its mother daily grow more fatted\\nWith money, devil-furnished by the ton,\\nWas still too young to comprehend her doings\\nSuch orgies had this English she at home\\nWith her dark subterranean paramour.\\nThat on one noted Eighteenth Century morn\\nThe youth got up and sailed beyond the bourne\\nWhich islands England in, resolved to roam\\nFree and aloof, on virgin mount and moor.\\nAnd the disgracing brothel to forget,\\nFrom which sun, soul, and love, and honor, had\\nset.\\nHad you then journeyed down the trembling sea\\nTo look upon the promise of that youth.\\nYou must have felt the inarticulate thrill\\nOf some new faintly whispering truth\\nBy the great universe conceived,\\nAn effort of the deeply sleeping will\\nTo rouse itself from its impotency.\\nAnd then inconsolate you would have grieved.\\nXVI.\\nFor when this hopeful boy to manhood mounted.\\nAnd European slaves expectant throbbed\\n93", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "For glad fulfillment of that giant promise\\nTo break the nations chains with sledge of truth,\\nInaugurating something due the sun\\nAnd owed the moon in gratitude for shining,\\nIn payment for the patient light they ve shed\\nThrough aeons so interminably long,\\nThat star-dust man might sprout, and grow, and\\nbud,\\nAnd be that fabulously perfect thing\\nFor which the teeming milky way had toiled\\nAnd grass had grown and the fair sea moaned\\nThen what did he but turn a somersault\\nAnd kick his early morals to the devil,\\nBehaving with such transcendental fault\\nThat he convinced the sage whose heads v/ere level\\nThat Satan was the fellow s actual sire,\\nTogether with the virgin weird and dire;\\nThat he was gotten in a carnal sin\\nWhen England let by night the devil in.\\nFor on what other doctrine hypothetic\\nCould his debauchery and doings hypocritic\\nBe sanctioned by hereditary laws.\\nUnless descended from the chap with claws?\\nHe played the devil s undisputed pranks\\nWith such- agility with his long shanks I\\nAs but blue-blooded fiends could hope to rival; I\\nMere mortals in the art would droop and drivel.\\nXVII. f\\nHe practised with a devil-borrowed shrewdness\\nThe motions of his mother s sorry lewdness.\\nDressed as a saint, with Bible for a bludg\\nWent over all the planet sleekly trudgin\\nThe colored piccaninnies sharply nudgin\\ni\\nDressed as a saint, with Bible for a bludgeon,\\nWent over all the planet sleekly trudgin\\n94", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "To get excuse to throw em in a dudgeon.\\nThen if they cried and scratched and hit him back,\\nAt once he put em in his carpet-sack,\\nIn ribaldry yclept his market sack\\nLike mama England with her billion niggers,\\nMong whom the starving Hindu dimly figgers.\\nWho robs one continent of food and rubies\\nWherewith to spank South African Dutch boobies\\nUpon the fiend-fires of assimilation\\nBurned up each rubbishy and lesser nation.\\nAnd then sailed home to dance and drink and pray,\\nUntil another henroost came his way.\\nXVIII.\\nA prouder father never was than Satan,\\nWhose blood with England s mixed made such a\\ngreat un.\\nThat England was not far from Devil removed\\nIn blood and natural substance, thus was proved;\\nFor only species similar are fertile,\\nOthers most ruthlessly the offspring curtail.\\nAn ape and cow, for instance, lack affinity\\nLike England s and the Devil s consanguinity.\\nYet like the mule, with Devil s Sam t may happen\\nThere ll be no second generation gotten.\\nNot as a certain family of Jukes,\\nWhose business is to multiply the spooks.\\nThe near relationship of Greeks and Gods\\nTheir progeny attested gainst some odds;\\nTho with the ancient devils they sometimes flirted.\\nNothing like Uncle Sam was thence concerted.\\nXIX.\\nSo went events until a certain season\\nWhen England howled against the Devil treason.\\n95", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "For in the climax of the mighty stir\\nWhich she had made to steal some populations\\nThe highest transports of her love relations\\nThe arch fiend seemed to have deserted her.\\nThe simple fact was, miracle to most,\\nA few mere herders in a distant desert\\nDisplayed more wit than all her titled inert\\nGenerals, incalculable host\\nOf soldiers, and her cannon backed by pelf\\nStol n from the world by England s Law of Self.\\nThis was too much for equanimity\\nAnd England sent Lord Kitchener to hell\\nTo bring her husband up to earth pell mell.\\nWho only brought from His Sublimity\\nYawning upon a superheated cauldron\\nWhich his vast limbs lay stretched out supine on.\\nIn which the British soldiers lately dead\\nConsumed immortally, a devil s bed\\nWhose feathers, human flesh and bone.\\nSome thousand imps poured boiling oil on\\nThese words, spoken in surly English tone:\\nXX.\\nGo tell the woman who demands my presence,\\nThat, having earth s whole structure much be-\\nfussed.\\nEnjoy the consequences now she must.\\nI made a couple of miscalculations\\nIn my United Kingdom recreations.\\nFirst, was the limitation of my travels.\\nOne like myself brought up to have hell s\\nAerial messengers to bring him news.\\nIs sometimes over-hasty in his views.\\n96\\nn\\n1\\n1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "The place Transvaal I wholly overlooked,\\nHence all my calculations overcooked.\\nMy studies were in youth somewhat neglected;\\nI always thought South Africa infected\\nWith men of Ethiopic form and feature,\\nOr even smaller pigmy apish creature.\\nI thought mankind divided in two lots:\\nLiars and thieves like you, financial sots,\\nIncluding Philippine Sam and all of Europe,\\nAnd every civilized sinner from the boor up.\\nThe other lot I briefly called wild niggers,\\nParticularly adapted breakfast food for triggers.\\nThat there survived a stock of independence\\nOutside the niggers, I doubted with a vengeance.\\nAnd niggers, like the subjects of Khalifa,\\nRun up the leaden jaws of cannon if a\\nTinned general appears, and die like deer,\\nTweaking the Creusot cannon with a spear.\\nXXI.\\nAmerica no longer now obstructs\\nThe progress of enslaving usufructs.\\nAnd may be medaled foremost foe of freedom.\\nAddicted once to hear the weak and heed em.\\nI knew that with my wealth and wiles I d rotted\\nThe various modern virtues pruned and potted;\\nThat all the civilized and culture crammed\\nWere crutched mechanical puppets I had damned;\\nAnd that, with luxury and millionaires,\\nCowed poverty and greedy butcher snares,\\nTo trap the hunted remnants of the brave,\\nAll good was long since in the grave.\\nSo that it gave me quite a nervous shock\\nWhen British troops got such a vital knock.\\n97", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "XXII.\\nThe world is not yet all by me dissected,\\nIts sweetness have I not yet wholly sucked,\\nIts spirit fruit not altogether plucked,\\nA little manhood s somewhere resurrected.\\nGo tell the stomachy dame that sent you here\\nThat I bethink me she has much to fear.\\nFor where both beer and bible fail to trouble.\\nWhere gin and civilization are but stubble.\\nWhere men have brains enough to scorn the dol-\\nlar\\nA certain circumstance of mental squalor\\nWhere they reject the pirate-plank monopoly\\nAnd love their freedom more than hankered prop-\\nerty,\\nMy wiles as devil fail.\\nMy lurid fires pale.\\nMy quirpish spirits quail,\\nAnd like a slow hell-snail\\nI quiver and crawl.\\nIncontinent fall\\nFrom earth s dome\\nTo my hell home.\\nHere my ovens I fill\\nTo thaw me of the chill\\nOf sitting in a wind\\nWhere people had not sinned.\\nI mean I felt the blast\\nOf manhood blowing past.\\nWhich more upsets my nerves\\nThan all this hell-fire serves.\\nWith warm petroleum curves\\n98", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "And dead men s melting sigh,\\nTo straightly rectify.\\nSo I can t come\\nTo madam glum.\\nThe cold I have would hang on long\\nIf I should mount my motor-prong.\\nYou can t conceive the speed with which\\nMy bicycle tail begins to switch;\\nIt bangs me through the universe\\nAn orbit hourly or worse.\\nThe cosmic drafts I never mind\\nIf good companionship I find;\\nTis only when I meet with dumb saints\\nI m taken with my old lung plaints.\\nThe earth was one of my oases,\\nA golden frame for devil s graces,\\nOne restful spot in solemn spaces;\\nWhere nothing is, no wrong solaces.\\nBut now these dozen death-or-freedom Boers\\nHave sent me here to doctors and hell s cures.\\nXXIII.\\nMy second mistake your mistress may appreciate;\\nMy tendency to virtue s nerve depreciate.\\nAltho I ve hemorrhage and inflammation\\nWhen men with daring soul invade my station,\\nSo few of these withstand the sugared butter\\nI melt before them in a golden gutter,\\nThat I decided all were nincompoops.\\nAnd came to treat them all as itching dupes;\\nItching for money, leadership or name.\\nFor pleasure, premiership or bloated fame.\\n99\\niMira", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "Could buy the whole set with a bauble shining,\\nAnd set them murdering and bible-whining,\\nBy mention of a gold mine up in Sirius,\\nJust scalable by damned war delirious.\\nI know the various species of this itch.\\nIt seldom fails to operate. Lord Kitch.\\nCanst blame me then all humans for despising\\nAnd their few consciences for undersizing?\\nHad I of Boers and liberty-or-death heard,\\nShould have straightway their principles bribed\\ndeathward\\nWith promise of an audience with your queen,\\nKneebreeches on, and buckles, colored green.\\nWhat burgher would not Freedom soothly cheat\\nIf he could lick Victoria s lovely feet?\\nOr who for Liberty would shed his blood\\nIf he could crawl a day in royal mud?\\nI learned this from the patriot Yankee States;\\nThere s not an unctuous patriot crude or swellish\\nBut would his principles devour with relish\\nIf served upon the Queen s reception plates.\\nDigestion s found to be divine\\nIn company with royal swine;\\nWhat easily dissolves a stone\\nCan chylify a small backbone.\\nI once defined a Yankee thus:\\nA Freeman filled with British pus\\nYou stick your pin beneath the skin.\\nWhich is a little century thin,\\nAnd oozes out an English muss,\\nYou \\\\e nothing but an English cuss.\\n100", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "He sells his daughter to a rotten lord,\\nThe mass enrich him of their own accord.\\nThat millions he may send to English cad\\nTen thousand girls must turn to harlotry,\\nGirls beautiful, in Freedom s imagery,\\nYet are they infinitely sad.\\nI could not set the Boer above the Yankee,\\nWho gives his daughters to me and says thank ee.\\nMy purpose is to stay in hell till summer,\\nTo give my progeny on earth a chance\\nMy cause for their self-interest to advance,\\nAnd turn the Boer into a tramp and bummer.\\nMy compliments to your reputed Miss,\\nMay she kill many and experience bliss.\\nXXIV.\\nLord Culinary paddled home to light,\\nAnd told his mistress all as was dight.\\nThe story is I think it not she swore!\\nAnd screamed, Hell s fires I ll quench with gore!\\nAs she lay foaming on the satin rug,\\nA postscript came from hell by lightning fire-bug.\\nIt read as follows: Sweet my own,\\nIn drink and epilepsy grown.\\nTake heart and take a million pounds\\nAnd go your educating rounds.\\nAs once we lay on lily bed\\nI what you thought was silly said;\\nSaid, I the devil am success;\\nTho something more, am nothing less.\\nThe Boers, uncommonly malicious,\\nAre not commonly avaricious.\\n101", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "Success to them s a picayune,\\nTo you and all, earth s only boon.\\nThat s why you can t succeed to lick em.\\nYour crude molasses will not stick em.\\nTake my advice and but refine it.\\nWith education surface-shine it.\\nAnd they may leave their windy valleys\\nAnd go to school to windy sallies.\\nThey may, by studying the Greeks,\\nBecome most cultivated sneaks.\\nWith Latinized curriculum\\nAnd Lofty Caesar tickle em.\\nFamiliarized with ancient muck-cess.\\nYou may entice to modern success.\\nO Love, believe my proverb-thunder,\\nEducate whom you would plunder.\\nXXV.\\nDown in hell the devil leered.\\nCountenance besmeared and bleared;\\nTo himself thus cogitated,\\nHate and appetite o er sated:\\nDoes this old English beast carnivorous\\nImagine from our destined bent to shiver us?\\nWe manufacture universal woe.\\nWith dragnet of success I deftly tow\\nAll humankind to gnashing poisoned sorrow.\\nMore matchless woe tomorrow and tomorrow.\\nHence, with this venomed bait success I ve lured\\nher,\\nAdown the avenues to hell adjured her.\\nYet in my marital voluptuousness\\nSaid never once success is happiness;\\n102\\n4", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "The fool s ambition had invented that\\nBefore I raised to her my thrice-cocked hat.\\nMy double purpose is to mock and damn her,\\nWhile using her the Boers to mock and hammer.\\nTho from the fiend Success the Boer recoils,\\nI ll cover him with British success-boils.\\nBut neither one of them shall understand,\\nThe shattering-rock of happiness I stand.\\nXXVI.\\nThe Boer fights on, the English soldiers fall,\\nWhile all the sons of liberty rejoice\\nThat daring Freedom has again found voice,\\nAnd in her mountains seems invulnerable.\\nThe tumor of the world, England, fights on;\\nHer apoplectic visage, stretched and pale.\\nOf viperish infamy the earthly paragon;\\nThe strength of empire now of no avail;\\nHer glory in the balance wavering.\\nHer senile prestige faintly quavering.\\nAnd a new world-era in the dawn.\\nXXVII.\\nEngland reputed home of equal rights,\\nSelf-haloed as the despots youthful David,\\nBy whose example all must mount the flights\\nThat lead to civic heaven, whose cobbled aisles\\nConduct the poor and rich to equal votes\\nGod s special pearl in Anglo-Saxon isles.\\nThe hard-won right to utter in a box\\nA wish the House of Lords thence-onward blocks,\\nAnd those objecting shoots within the moats\\nFor English liberty means you shall die\\nIf having voted and blown off your steam.\\n103", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "You cry, A vote is not a tinsel dream,\\nTo be dispelled and vetoed by the high,\\nTho cast in conquering majority.\\nThe part of liberty, in British custom.\\nIs to make people howl and vote, then bust em.\\nThe simple satisfaction of the howl\\nContents the vulgar and besmooths the scowl.\\nThe idea that a noble Britisher\\nShould make his vote a lever to uplift\\nThe burden of the ages, kingly gift\\nOf those who sit upon his back and purr,\\nIs complicated; he prefers to smoke\\n(And batter heads of those who cry down war\\nAnd cry up human freedom and the Boer).\\nFor empty abstract right to vote with paper.\\nHe cuts the most unprecedented caper:\\nHe cuts his very economic throat.\\nBy all the upper classes he is cut,\\nHe cuts his cloth and finds he has no coat.\\nFrom all elected privilege is he shut,\\nAnd finally warms himself in Potter s rut.\\nFor this bleak British liberty and feed,\\nThe vulgar British vote, and bleat, and bleed.\\nXXVIII.\\nAfter Lord Savagehash had left the synod.\\nThe devil lay reflecting on the sin odd\\nOf sixteen Boers delaying Hell s progression\\nAnd making all damnation hold a session.\\nThe more he thought, the bluer did he get.\\nHis flaming skin got absolutely wet.\\nA feeling dangerously new to him\\n104\\nI", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "Across his wrought-iron chest electrically swam.\\nA shifting feeling of incertitude\\nThat if the neurasthenic brood\\nOf humans hypnotized and mewed\\nShould have the Boer struggle long before their\\neyes,\\nIt would said devil-hypnotism vial capsize.\\nFor well he knew the devil s power stands\\nAnd shines, upon imaginary sands.\\nThe humans fear and reverently trust him,\\nWhich gives mesmeric potency to just him;\\nAnd when they learn to think that he is weak,\\nTail sheathed, bray breathed, uncheeked, away\\nhe ll sneak.\\nXXIX.\\nThe exudations from the hams of Atkins,\\nAnd various other smells from heroes fat skins\\nStuffed dnd expressed by England as a gift.\\nAt which he, mollified, now pecked and sniffed,\\nHad made him reckless of the fragile tenure\\nBy which he rules the destinies of men or\\nOf even women, tho they attend his churches,\\nAnd occupy his prefatory perches,\\nIn preparation for their hell excursions\\nWhen earth shall lose its charming last diversions\\nOf gladiatorial trade and war\\nAnd dodging Christ s stern neither, nor.\\nHe sat upright and said to General Lawton,\\nNow quite a crony as the latest thought on\\nThe prudent art of prudence in a bog\\nAnd civilization shooting though a fog:\\n105", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "I much commend the Yankee bent\\nOf giving God a safety scent,\\nThat when the critical moment comes\\nReligion solves political sums.\\nIt s just the same except in name\\nWhich fiend you trust and which you blame;\\nTrust me and you ll the devil see,\\nTrust God and you ll the devil be.\\nThis God when under a physical strain\\nReveals the Devil s phthisical brain.\\nThe Yankee s speculative mould\\nMade use of God, England, of gold.\\nThe Yankee crows and England quails,\\nWho God-wind sows shall fill his sails.\\nBut whether he sows to God or me\\nThe harvest is my classical fee.\\nXXX.\\nThe devil, leaving Lawton sore confused.\\nStrolled solemnly away and mused:\\nAll England and all hell before the Boer\\nBow down, compelled and poor.\\nThey volley their red flames of sinuous death\\nIn vain, and launch their poisoned shibboleth\\nTo see it whistle home again,\\nA devastating boomerang,\\nTheir own arms breaking with an anvil clang.\\nBecause the Boer is not yet dead within.\\nNot yet, like England, pickled wealth in sin.\\nHis soul still beats immaculately strong.\\nWhile that survives, ev n hell may thunder long\\nIts huge bombardment of atrocious deeds,\\nAnd victory flutter far from its damned creeds.\\n106\\nI", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "Mankind, perceiving this, will spurn my yoke.\\nTyrants like England, presidents, kings and\\nthieves,\\nWho feast on men as parasites on leaves,\\nThey ll spring triumphantly upon and choke,\\nCompleting the vast cycle of their slavery,\\nAnd in that act of vanquishing deliverance\\nGo free of sin my mesmerizing influence\\nAnd in one blow destroy me and my knavery.\\nI shudder! Are not these seeds of revolution?\\nI see the bloody knife of Anarchy!\\nMen sometimes kill in order to be free!\\nTo kill is murder, murder s sin! Confusion!\\nIs not sin sin, tho done to vanquish sin?\\nShall earth grow sinless through a sinful sin?\\nMore woeful would this be than all iniquity!\\nYou must use kindness with a grizzly bear,\\nA sinful club to use would not be fair.\\nAnd this applies delightfully to sin and me.\\nTo use a sin to kill a sin, and live.\\nIs more obnoxious to\u00e2\u0080\u0094 hem, me, than bible.\\nMen may all die, but must not practise evil!\\nLife, is a worthless little thing to give!\\nXXXI.\\nThis doctrine s perfect, now I must apply it;\\nWhen virtue chains itself I do defy it.\\nYou must not sin to bring millenium in;\\nA sin is, well, whatever sin has been.\\nOnce make it sin to fight superior force\\nAnd you may talk of freedom till you re hoarse.\\nYour duty then s to wait till tyrant power\\nGets tired and good, and ceases to devour.\\n107", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "Resist with force and you re a cursed criminal,\\nThey kill you and their crime is versed in hymnal.\\nThis is the collar which the good have fitted\\nUpon themselves: think you they re to be pitied?\\nI ll show this shining thought to mother England,\\nAnd all the rest will copy from that wing d land.\\nBut simple looking Sam don t need to learn it;\\nHe simply had to stir his blood and yearn it.\\nThe good are thus my coadjutors,\\nI ll make them all my plenary tutors.\\nTo them I ll intrust the difficult art\\nOf teaching the world we must not part.\\nThey must never use force to drive me out,\\nForce would be wickedness, undevout;\\nBut I can use force to keep me in,\\nForce against my force would be sin.\\nWhen I of my free untrammeled will\\nMake up my mind no more to kill,\\nAnd give up the world of my own accord.\\nThe millenium will have probably roared.\\nIt rests with me to blow the horn.\\nFor morally none may wake the morn,\\nBut when I do it, and crack my doom.\\nGood Lord, my mind will have scaled the flume!\\nIt happens, a devil s mind can t crack.\\nSo the world for ever ll be on the rack.\\nXXXII.\\nThe devil now prepared to stroll\\nTo his happy orthodox Anglican goal.\\nFolded his flannels in his dressing case,\\nShaved well his tail and freshly ground the point,\\n108", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "Fell far in Asia at an opium joint,\\nRebounded thence to Africa with grace.\\nHere, as a school girl with her well-thumb d\\nbooks,\\nHe studied everything that makes a Boer,\\nCornelian woman and the men that woo er.\\nSped thence away, affrighted at their looks.\\nAnd to his hundred millionth wife thus spake:\\ninou sunbeam mellowing a distant apple,\\nThou match that teachest fire and air to grapple.\\nThou duck that bellowest for thy Drake\\nAnd wouldst throw Buller in a fiery lake.\\nThou bug that sittest on the sun s exterior\\nTo hide the light from everything inferior.\\nAnd sweetly says. Be not for this the drearier.\\nThou woman then, so full of spleen and malice.\\nThat I would rather lose thee from my pipe\\nThan quaff the odor of thy garnet flesh.\\nAnd have thee muddy up hell s limpid chalice\\nOf simple blood with thine incontinent juice\\nOf all deflections from the normal in thy vice,\\nThy sphere as I foresaw in drunken dream\\nInfallible, is earth, stay here supreme.\\nConduct damnation here, make converts ripe\\nTo drop expectant in the foremost sluice\\nThat sweeps across the unfathomable all\\nTo my proud fall! But enter not hell s close.\\nFor thine insatiable female wish\\nTo be distinguished as supremely damned,\\nAnd from the Matterhorn of matchless woe\\nTo look compassionately down on those\\nWho suffer less, and cry in anguished scorn\\n109", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "And jealous triumph over all thy mates,\\nMy sin and suffering surpasses thine!\\nShall be confirmed.\\nThou Shalt stay glooming here, but not without\\nconditions.\\nAttend the voice of thy diurnal magistrate,\\nIndulgent with the mystery of thy future missions,\\nAs first it doth impartially disseminate\\nA picture of thyself and tny degenerate\\nLand unburned.\\nXXXIII.\\nI ve been to Africa a-slumming.\\nTo get material for Extension lectures;\\nA college settlement I think of plumming.\\nAnd had to learn the natives gestures.\\nIn the wide desert still is fragrant health.\\nMen are not dapper phantom clerks,\\nPerforming counter-jumper smirks.\\nScared echoes of employers jerks,\\nWithout a phantom rood or stone\\nThat honorably is their own.\\nThey are not battlemented collars\\nLike airy peaks of Alpine ice\\nInviolably white and nice.\\nThe work of laundry-ladies scholars.\\nThey are not town degenerates,\\nBut are the eagle s mountain mates,\\nWhose aerie is the wilderness.\\nThe stars their everlasting dress,\\nAt home in evil tempered night.\\nCool sorcerers in storm and fright.\\n110\\n1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "Tis whispered that they eat with knives,\\nYet can they be as gods in battle;\\nThey neither napkins use nor tattle,\\nYet dare they well protect their lives.\\nXXXIV.\\nI d like to see a big ungainly Boer\\nBehind the counter of an English store.\\nDiscussing sugar at so much an ounce\\nAnd mastering the last commercial pounce.\\nI d like ev n more to see him as a student,\\nBecoming daily deep and thin and prudent;\\nSay, learning at the feet of Doctor Schurman\\nTo be the president s waiter and a pure man.\\nWe ve now at schools the branch diplomacy.\\nTo teach us legally to roam a sea\\nAs pirates, but without conspiracy;\\nTo fast enchain the free and leave em free.\\nThis document the Boers shall next examine.\\nTo pass in victories without much crammin\\nTo wash the sunny starch out of their sinews\\nThey must in classes fish for moral minnows.\\nX stands for obligation^ and XY\\nThe sanction carries and the reason why.\\nBut what you are to do, and when, and how.\\nWill be discussed in heaven, not now.\\nWhile here enjoy your sense of obligation.\\nAnd be yourself contented with flirtation.\\nPursue your moral studies with a view\\nTo be professor of a chosen few;\\nTo walk in metaphysic adumbration\\nAnd let your conduct go in, hum, vibration;\\n111", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "To hoard your energy in college shades\\nAnd help the vulgar horde proceed to Had es.\\nEschew unpopularity Hebraic,\\nSoul-science ethic is to cure an ache;\\nFawn on the Carnegies and Rockefellers\\nTo teach sweet reason to the rocky sellers.\\nWhat is the purpose of Professor Fudge\\nIf not to make the rich man s pocket budge?\\nThere s Wellesley now, the school of innocent girls.\\nOpens its mouth for Rockefeller pearls;\\nIts faculty, with morals ripe tattoed,\\nDecides a giver s not to be tabooed.\\nIt has a solemn war dance in a meeting.\\nAnd votes that John got rich ithout cheating.\\nHere, wife, s my introduction and tuition\\nTo Wellesley, for you to ta^e a course in fishin\\nThe wimmin there dispense the blood of Christ\\nWith dying poor men s blood stirred up and sliced.\\nTell your Miss President What s-her-Christian-\\nname\\nI sent you; she ll delightedly exclaim.\\nTake this tender billet-doux to Wellesley,\\nSafe and sound forever now in Hell s lee:\\nKeep your skins and cuffs immaculately white.\\nAnd protect yourselves with treatises on right;\\nSend the under class to bivouac and fight,\\nPay the tailor bills of God in full at sight.\\nXXXV.\\nOne height must be assailed with solemn wing\\nBefore the Boer can sycophantly sing:\\nThat is the time-crowned House of Parliament,\\n112", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "The ins and outs and underneaths and scent\\nOf which he must know better than the dog\\nThat knows his friends by smelling of the log.\\nHere England s favored upper classes meet\\nTo fashion sacraments that garnish cheat.\\nHere is the transformation deftly wrought\\nOf boiling dowii the general will to naught.\\nHere climb the cunning acrobats of fortune,\\nOn laws that are Democracy s abortion.\\nThe people swear that while the Commons sit\\nAnd gaseous odors steamingly emit,\\nDecoctions savory of its own sweet wishes\\nThat they, the people! get the loaves and fishes.\\nThe Commons legislate the things that suit em.\\nAnd next day loudly over England toot em\\nAs laws enacted by the godlike people,\\nTho made by them alone up in a steeple.\\nPeople so anodyned and ballot-dinned.\\nMen are not, but are horned and finned.\\nThe best prescription known for cure of manhood\\nIs attendance at this Central Union School,\\nWhere the students study pockets they may cram\\ngood\\nWhile the nation takes diploma for a fool.\\nOf these arts they know but little in the desert.\\nThat is why they grow such mighty muscles there.\\nDrag them into pumps and swallow-tails and des-\\nsert.\\nLet Delilah cut the Samson s golden hair.\\n113", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "XXXVI.\\nEngland, thou art an age behind the times,\\nAltho behind thee is an age of crimes.\\nThou canst not be a troglodyte\\nAnd lord it o er eternal right;\\nThou canst not fight with flints and stones\\nAnd break the Almighty s cushioned bones.\\nMust, if thou wilt the truth enchain,\\nDiscard thy crumb d Silurian brain.\\nTake now thy choice, be just and die\\nOf ennui, far removed from gore,\\nThy realm no reeking slaughter-house.\\nThy poor no longer shrieking ghosts.\\nOr dying on the battlefield\\nTo feed thy gorgon-boweled rich\\nThis course to you is twenty hells,\\nYou corpse-grown smile the story tells.\\nThe other way is modern, up to date\\nComprised in one vast title Educate.\\nXXXVII.\\nAbandon the system which starves out your\\nmasses.\\nThe proceeds of labor distribute with fairness;\\nDissolve and extinguish the infamous classes.\\nThe robbers who curse all the others with bare-\\nness.\\nCan you tell me, my dolt with catapult nostril,\\nHow the masses can ever raise spirit for fighting,\\nWhen spirit in them is a dry desert lost rill\\nOf wretches who spend half their days no food\\nbiting?\\n114", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "You can t make a batt ring ram out of your head\\nIf millions that make you, skim bread from the\\ngutter;\\nYou can t be a famous composer of lead\\nIf your masses their black curse of hate on you\\nmutter.\\nYou fool, can you feed your high upper class ulcer\\nAnd keep your low arms strong for war and de-\\nfence?\\nCan your ladyship chastise the boor that insults\\nher.\\nWhile freezing her bowels with class reverence?\\nRob your workers, deprive them of hope and ambi-\\ntion.\\nBloat your shirkers and stuff their bold bellies\\nwith all:\\nWhen war comes, arm your shadows and pray\\nwith contrition.\\nAnd ride with your stuffers to national fall.\\nSo unless you give ear to my other obsession.\\nThe hard ways of Justice you ll have to embrace;\\nYour low ones make equal their lords of oppres-\\nsion.\\nFill their minds and their bodies with strength\\nand with grace.\\nYour condors of capital drive to the Channel\\nAnd drown them without a remorse or a tear;\\nThen your nation will grow into strength that will\\nban hell.\\nAnd the whole universe will exultingly fear.\\n115", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "Mind, I don t recommend this, sweet cowardly\\nsloven.\\nI show you the picture to make you recoil.\\nTis my purpose to give your thick pate such a\\nclubbin\\nThat this deuced grand vista of earth you will foil.\\nFor you see very plainly that if this should hap-\\npen\\nYour country d no longer be hell s charming pal-\\nace;\\nThe blood of mankind you d no longer be sappin\\nFrom your realms I should pack my defeated val-\\nise.\\nXXXVIII.\\nI am now about to tell you\\nOf a better way than that:\\nHow you rob the little people\\nWhile you keep the richer fat;\\nHow you keep the masses slaving\\nIn the universal way\\nAnd the robbers keep a-raving\\nOf the universal ray\\nOf the sun that s just arising\\nIn the Oriental East;\\nAnd the food they re just apprising\\nFor an ornamental feast,\\nWhere the rich shall sit as usual\\nAt the tables and the plates,\\nAnd the poor shall flit as ever\\nEmpty through the gorgeous gates,\\nAnd believe that they have eaten\\nOf the riches from the deep,\\nAs they sink with bodies beaten\\nTo their everlasting sleep.\\n116", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "XXXIX.\\nIf thou wilt be my brigadier in earnest,\\nSee that the latest tricks of Sam thou learnest.\\nYour population is composed of noodles\\nPresided over by some lords and boodles.\\nThe boodled lords are fools that cannot lead,\\nThe people dunces, that can only bleed.\\nWhen stood against a man or two with guns\\nYour whole creation wobbles round and runs.\\nI tell you, ancient cow with parched udders;\\nThe world has left behi nd your breed of cudders;\\nTurn off your belly-pated lords and boodlers\\nOr your tough flesh is canned for Yankee Dood-\\nlers.\\nSam s snappy tricks outnumber yours by several,\\nIf you raise felons on your head you never ll\\nHave strength within your legs to beat that clever\\nsell.\\nXL..\\nYou must, I hate to say it cursed spouse.\\nYou topsails cut and in the water souse.\\nTo beat the devil with the devil s tricks\\nYou know s a proverb, which I deem prolix,\\nBut find most pointed when applied to God.\\nI roll the Lord beneath the rumbling sod\\nBy beating him with his own fumbling rod.\\nI take his virtues out of his own mouth.\\nAnd leave him famishing in a moral drouth.\\nThat is, the latest virtue he evolves\\nI make my own, and neatly make it solve\\nMy trouble how to let God exercise.\\nAnd keep as ever mine the earthly prize.\\n117", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "If God s allowed to stretch his moral muscles,\\nHe struts around and swings his arms and bus-\\ntles\\nAnd starts a twig of goodness here and there,\\nAnd says, In fifteen centuries this will bear\\nA moral fig, for which mankind will bless me\\nAnd cry, how sad the universe would be, less Me.\\nHe is a God that dearly loves to loafe^\\nHe ll waste an age reclining with an oaf\\nAnd leave the world to my complete possessing,\\nIf I do always what I m now confessing.\\nXLI,\\nHe has in every century or three\\nA sudden stroke of moral epilepsy;\\nAnd then must belch and roll in ethical raving,\\nAnd recover himself by giving the world a saving.\\nIn these wild times of electro-mystical rabies.\\nOne might suppose God liable to nab is\\nMost mortal enemies, sin and me, and grab is\\nPoor earth and bear it away from the Devil s grav-\\ning.\\nAnd he might, if I then resisted his delirium\\nAnd applied my usual vice to men to leery em.\\nNot I! I know too much to make God stubborn:\\nHow is it kings and politicians suborn\\nThe glowering mass when it s really in a rage\\nAnd demanding a fifth of a right in its mad ram-\\npage?\\nI taught em the trick when the world primarily\\nsqueaked.\\nAnd the first conception of right from heaven\\nleaked.\\nThe rulers pretend to blow in the popular quarter,\\n118\\n1", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "And give em, instead of a fifth, a tenth of a quar-\\nter.\\nA fortieth part of a right they wisely concede em,\\nAnd afterwards forty times faster continue to bleed\\nem.\\nNow this is the measure I practise upon the Al-\\nmighty\\nWhenever his period comes to be morally flighty.\\nI seem, like the college professor and ethical\\npreacher.\\nTo be on God s side, and like them a prophetical\\nscreecher.\\nI further his projects as ladies who visit the slums.\\nOr political scientists closely examining scums.\\nGod like this, and says I m a gentleman well-bred\\nand learn d,\\nA personage safe to entrust with a worm that has\\nturned.\\nIn delight he forgets it s his duty to foam some-\\nwhat longer,\\nAnd confesses he feels in his legs and his head\\nsomewhat stronger.\\nI mistook you, he says to me tenderly, giving his\\nsceptre.\\nThe keys of the earth I deliver to you, having\\nswept her\\nOf several extensive old sin-webs and even a\\nspider\\nWith your care will this sweeping for twelve gen-\\nerations abide her.\\nImplanting a kiss of respect on my seal-colored\\ncheek.\\nHe flies to his damsels, confiding mankind to my\\nbeak.\\n119", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "XLII.\\nThe Lord, Mother England, has recently dropt in\\na fit.\\nThe lord and the boodler, he says with decision,\\nmust git.\\nJust humor him now and apparently give em their\\nconge;\\nThere s more than one way the mudsill population\\nto sponge, eh?\\nAs I ve said several times. Uncle Sam has deliv-\\nered the hint.\\nAnd no fiend can suspect that his stomach and\\nheart are not flint.\\nYour Oxford and Cambridge stupidities old are ef-\\nfete,\\nFound colleges new, to present the new mass a\\nfresh teat.\\nThe herd has discovered it owns a projection\\ncalled brain;\\nOur trump is to give them a chance this confection\\nto train.\\nThen let those who scale the toplofty Parnassus of\\nscience\\nEnjoy luscious fruits, for their self-sacrifice and\\nappliance.\\nLet feeders on those precious fruits be the pick of\\nthe mass,\\nAnd the rest v/ill imagine the blessings stream\\ndown on their class.\\nThey ll willingly, then, be the slaves of their lucky\\nelect\\nWe ll kingship, and boodlers, and privilege, then\\nresurrect.\\n120", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "The elect will with lords and monopolists divvy\\nthe pot,\\nThus connecting themselves with antiquity, not\\nto say rot.\\nThe people, in gratitude-vinegar softened, ap-\\npeased,\\nWill starve and obey, until God with another fit s\\nseized.\\nOn the brow of Spionkop\\nWhere the British lost their top skins,\\nThrow the people down a sop,\\nPlant a Harvard or Johns Hopkins.\\nXLHI.\\nI m now in a word about to state\\nThe manner in hell we educate.\\nOur principal aim is subtlety.\\nThe mother of mental adultery.\\nWe fill the mind with so many perceptions.\\nIt hasn t a corner for moral reflections.\\nThe more ways you think on a given subject,\\nIn four ways you see that life has no object;\\nA little more learning makes six of four,\\nThe doctor s degree gives sixteen more.\\nYou get so deep that you go to sleep,\\nAnd the harvest of learning I briefly reap.\\nA student hedged with a million ifs\\nHas no occasion for earthly tiffs\\nWith an old wrong here and a new one there.\\nTo him all s equally black and fair.\\n121", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "His mind takes in both good and bad,\\nThe thing it cannot abide s a fad.\\nA fad s whatever leads to action,\\nAnd action always leads to faction.\\nWithin the All there are no rooms\\nFor faction, and the mind that plumes\\nItself on taking in the all\\nWould such a fallacy forestall.\\nA faction s always partly wrong:\\nA subtle mind would be despised\\nTo help a cause in one respect\\nDeflecting from the absolute.\\nIt finds itself in sea of bliss\\nFor where it swims the goal twill miss,\\nAnd ultimately proudly drown.\\nIn life s blank current undermown.\\nIt wisely will not swim at all\\nOr waste its nobleness and ball,\\nAgainst the things beyond its reach\\nIt will not raise its arm or preach.\\nXLIV.\\nSuch bliss, O lordly equal scholar.\\nYou feel, and neither fight nor holler.\\nYou muse upon th eternal breast,\\nOn earth you take eternal rest.\\nWhy should you fight a curse primeval?\\nYou re paid to study all prime evil.\\nYou diagnose a nd synopsize\\nAnd cures abhorrently despise.\\nYou, and the doctor theologic.\\nWith God all good and curing lodge, hie!\\nAnd in your drunk indifference\\n122", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "Kick life beyond the funeral fence.\\nYou and the feed and fat physician\\nHold vulgar curing in derision.\\nIf you can cut a stomach out\\nAnd see the patient walk about,\\nYou think you are God s birds of glory,\\nAnd can t abide the worms that worry\\nAbout the scientific hashes\\nYour knives administered with gashes.\\nWhy should a person want a stomach\\nIf he can be a monument\\nOf doctors vast sagacity\\nAnd flesh s vast felicity\\nAt being cut and living through it.\\nAnd living briefly but to rue it\\nHis soul intrinsically awed,\\nHis flesh incinerately sawed?\\nSo you, with firm celestial poise.\\nFloat motionless aloft,\\nImpregnable to human woe,\\nIf you can score a novel thought\\nIn your elect philosophy.\\nTo struggle being ever wrong,\\nWhat cause was ever worthy of\\nThe sacrifice which fathered it\\nWhen faction fought and made it strong?\\nYou are my son, O learned man,\\nYou comprehend th infernal plan.\\nYou are the corporal of my guard\\nThe planet s progress to retard.\\n123", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "XLV.\\nYou seem so wise and willing\\nThat people take you at your billing;\\nO erawed by you at cosmos-hulling\\nThey can t believe that you are gulling.\\nAnd why they don t detect your fraud,\\nYou educated alloyed God,\\nIs this: they think that education\\nIs intestinal divination\\nThe intercourse of God to males\\nThrough chicken chines and cows entrails.\\nFor in the mind of Populace\\nThe gibbering priest has lost the race.\\nInto his holy witchcraft shoes\\nThe holy educated scholar.\\nFresh from his institution-waller,\\nDescends to gather in his dues\\nAnd true believers more confuse.\\nThe magic of th eternal book\\nIt matters none what book or crook\\nBefogs the common ass forever,\\nNor will he from his asshood sever\\nHimself, while the bell-wether ass.\\nVice-regent of fell nether ass,\\nDerives his right to be a witch\\nFrom institutions crass and rich.\\nXLVI.\\nBehold the formulaed professor\\nAdore th abnormal greed possessor!\\nBehold the unctuous personage\\n124", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "Who steers the college in this age!\\nRevolving round the millionaire\\nAnd begging humbly for his share\\nOf what the thief unhanged has stolen,\\nA fraction of his booty swollen!\\nOf all the boys who go to school\\nTo such a millionaire-assuager,\\nThe rich man s petit domo-major,\\nWho is not knave, will be a fool.\\nBut so was matay an ancient priest\\nWho twisted entrails in the East.\\nThe entrail-knave will play deceiver\\nSo long as there s a pay retriever\\nSo long as people trust professors\\nAnd follow the resonant bray of guessers.\\nXLVII.\\nThou scented attribute of print,\\nI ll give thee one strategic hint.\\nHelp not the world to grow some better.\\nDo not thou wrench a single fetter.\\nBut teach it equanimity\\nIn witnessing its beauty ravished,\\nDefaced by vandals who could be\\nRestrained in their foul savagery,\\nIf those on whom mankind has lavished\\nIts wealth of opportunity\\nWere men, not creepers on the rich.\\nFor having helped me muzzle Jesus,\\nIn hell will none say that you freeze us.\\n125", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "XLVIII.\\nIt is not intended to make people happy,\\nCulture would not do so mean a thing.\\nThe purpose is to make them weak and pappy,\\nAnd to keep their brutish noses in the ring\\nThat was forged for them at first by howling can-\\nnon\\nWhen their fathers noble lives were shot away,\\nWhen their race was brought beneath the heel of\\nMammon\\nAnd to loving Jesus first was taught to pray.\\nLook upon the curious creatures of the cities\\nIn the lands that Jesus Christ has longest swayed,\\nWhere the colleges have sung their learned ditties\\nAnd professors been most liberally paid.\\nThere you see a bowed and creeping animalcule\\nWhom the universe regards with blinding shame.\\nOver whom the cultured rich and clammy ill rule\\nTill the earthworms penetrate the culture game.\\nThese loathsome crawling ulcerated creatures,\\nEmanating from the college culture spout,\\nAre the highest specimens the culture preachers\\nHave been able yet to sperm and bring about.\\nNor do any of them blench before the sewer\\nWhich arises in their sacred lecture rooms\\nWere the slummy population slightly fewer\\nThere would be less scrubbing education brooms.\\nFor the millionaire would harvest in less money\\nHad he fewer city savages to rob,\\nThe professor s saintly life would be less sunny\\nIf the college lifted up the dying mob.\\nHappiness is not the aim of solid culture:\\nIt s to keep intact the charnel status quo,\\nWhile the lofty philanthropic learned vulture\\nFeeds upo n the bleeding vitals of the low.\\n126", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "XLIX.\\nWhen you want wrongs defended that would make\\nThe sun ashamed to leave its molten bed,\\nA gold mine droop its brazen eye,\\nSilver regret its gleaming.\\nAnd all diamonds pityingly strive\\nTo dim their jealousy-creating rays.\\nCall on political economists.\\nAs soon as ploughing cannon have\\nDistressed the crust on which an untamed race\\nWith haughtiness confers with heaven and leads\\nIts independent life,\\nProject a glorious faculty\\nOf these economists to grill the land\\nAnd have its generous undiscriminating soil\\nHeaved into banks of mountain magnitude\\nEach mountain given to a foreigner\\nAnd plant upon its loamy slopes the seeds,\\nWhich, after generations of refined\\nAttempt, bear still Ricardian crabs, that strike\\nNine-tenths of all their withered eaters dead.\\nL.\\nUnder the spanking tutelage of these\\nLong-armed ear-flapping mills of wind, the native,\\nNevermore to be a man, shall learn\\nThat evermove the magnet place\\nTo keep his eye is not on heaven, but in\\nThe pocket of the Zeus\\nWho, in the latest press reports from Heaven\\nNo one can vouch their truthfulness has kicked\\nHis father Kronos out.\\nThis upstart Zeus who is the Millionaires\\nKronos, poor dog, his credit lost, and Zeus\\nDischarged that useless patriarch from the firm;\\n127", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "Who kicked Jehovah out, and afterward\\nDrove out the angels with a golden rod,\\nAnd then assailed the modern God himself,\\nThe Christian God of mighty loveliness\\nWell-armed with lovely mightiness,\\nReported to be strident, strong, omnipotent,\\nThe firmanent and stars like dice assembled in\\nHis hand, and guiding the innumerable\\nHost of thieves and things and powers that de-\\nluge the space\\nAnd him they beat, and kicked him out, and on\\nHis bandy-legged throne set up their own\\nAbominable and stinking thighs. In whose\\nDeep pockets septic is the execution-cart\\nFor all unmillionair d and common heads.\\nThe secretaries, scribes and messengers,\\nMen-of-all-work and body-servants.\\nOf these new Gods, are called Economists.\\nLI.\\nAltho I have a tail and horns\\nMy devilship abhors and scorns\\nThese formless human sausage skins,\\nExpositors of dirks and duns,\\nWho lie of this and lie of that\\nTo rdake their lies connect and pat;\\nMincing human meat and virtues\\nTo fill their skins and jaws with cur chews.\\nI m not inexorably squeamish.\\nNor in my ways exactly dreamish,\\nBut spider-web prevaricators\\nWho are of poor men merry praters,\\nWho glibly teach that poor men s feelings\\nAre tough as dried potato peelings;\\n128", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "Who ll spin a yarn of theory\\nTo earn their bloody fee for aye,\\nTo prove a million men may die\\nQuite justly, by just starving dry.\\nThat one in wealth may be a lubber\\nAnd philanthropically blubber\\nIf he desires about the children\\nOf those he killed to get his billion,\\nI like not.\\nI like an honest open fighter\\nMore than a back and secret smiter.\\nAn economic Pinkerton,\\nHiding identity and gun,\\nIngratiating his clammy carcass\\nIn every corner small and dark as\\nHis sooty soul, to overhear\\nSome evidence that matters here\\nAre right, and economically\\nWhat th Almighty comically\\nIntended, is for even serpent\\nLike me, so mean that I d repent.\\nSend out at once to the grim Transvaal\\nEconomists, and a trim trance doll\\nCalled Robinson Crusoe, to show that whoso\\nEateth and drinketh enough, shall do so\\nNo more on the capitalists arrival.\\nWho cometh to bury, or starve and deprave all.\\nLII.\\nThey re the modern missionary\\nWho, with treatises and sherry,\\nSoon ll induce the wandering Boers\\nTo whine to capital on all fours.\\n129", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "If syllogism, psychic fluxion,\\nFails, they ll have the satisfaction\\nOf splitting with a bottle, hairs\\nWhich paid no heed to Gresham s prayers.\\nBoer women, boldly marshaled,\\nMale attired: Alfred Marshall d,\\nBeing with child of some old Adam\\nSmith, or either Mill that s had em.\\nWould put on petticoats again\\nAnd play the economic hen;\\nStraightway their country s woes forgetting\\nWould lay their heads, to get a petting.\\nUpon the lap of Rhodes, the Cecil\\nWho tells them, leerically, peace ll\\nArrive when they have studied Malthus,\\nAnd shall with him and Beit as pal buss.\\nLIII.\\nWhen education took the place of God\\nA curious untold incident transpired.\\nThe college presidents, wanting something fine\\nInvited me officially to dine.\\nAnd with them, as unbiased clown.\\nTo weigh the budding interests of the moon\\nAnd incidentally to talk a little\\nAbout a man, his wife and little victual.\\nI acquiesced with joy, and interfused\\nConvivial spirit in their wine and wassail.\\nI got them drunk and mesmerism-locked.\\nThen sowed the thistle-thoughts that upward\\nflocked\\nFrom my department pedagogical.\\nWhich forms the highest doctorate of hell.\\nWhen asked what s wrong with modern education,\\nReply, The Devil was at the Presidents collation.\\n130", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "LIV.\\nI made it a point, as they lay there drunk,\\nTo explain to them how to make Freedom flunk,\\nBy saying that people of high cultivation\\nWould never engage in a Freedom gestation.\\nA man of culture must not be rough\\nTo despots, tho they be exceedingly gruff.\\nThe art of light is to live in the dark\\nIf you can t light up with a ladylike sp9.rk.\\nI mean, that to say we SHALL be free,\\nWithout Please, Sir, and Pardon me,\\nWould shock the nerves of a learned fellow\\nAnd turn him anthropological yellow.\\nThe proper college should humbly strive\\nSweet reverence to keep alive.\\nReverence toward whatever s above,\\nElegance, office, political shove.\\nWealth, of course, in iis iron glove.\\nOld things dead and bathed in love\\nWhich bathed on earth in a bath of blood\\nAnd died in a rain of stones and mud\\nBut now ascended to the eternal.\\nForgotten, reborn, returned, supernal.\\nLV.\\nThe bony Boer hath mere Old Testament morals,\\nWhich seemeth for trumpery liberty to stimulate\\nquarrels.\\nTeach him to be a neo-Christian canting.\\nTo render Caesar all there is but ranting.\\nTo recognize the majesty of law\\nAnd feel that all of it is justly our law,\\nWith care denying it is simply Power-law.\\n131", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "His brain, reduced to sacred legal charcoal,\\nWill not refuse to give the regal shark all.\\nLaw, mounted on the forceful throne of Caesar,\\nDestroys implacably the daring free,\\nThe erring who impertinently walk\\nApart from governmental chalk.\\nThe Boer must learn the law of non-resistance,\\nWhich no one honors with the very least sense\\nExcept as ether for the weak we murder\\nAnd alabaster ointment for the sturdier.\\nThere is no pagan charm like law and order.\\nYou make the law you please, then order\\nThe population dumbly down to lie\\nIn ordered rows, and keep your laws or die.\\nLVI.\\nThese darts of various wisdom well-selected\\nWill guide you through earth, raping, hell-inflect-\\ned.\\nWhen you ve by heart the blessed catechism.\\nYou re booted well to straddle any cataclysm.\\nWe now have the phenomenon\\nOf sin as Heaven s automaton.\\nThe moralist looks at sin and blinks it.\\nThe scientist smiles at sin and winks it,\\nThe publicist welcomes sin and prinks it,\\nThe religionist mixes it and drinks it,\\nTh economist hospitably links it\\nTo his seductive categories.\\nWhich dumbfound mythological stories\\nPertaining to gods or men or Sphinx,\\nProvided that none of them ever thinks\\n132", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "Sin in this company ages and worries\\nNo longer looks any at sin and shrinks it.\\nLVII.\\nThe fundamental principle of Hell s\\nConstruction still remains untold.\\nBy dint of deep initiation in my ways\\nYou re now prepared to take a wild descent,\\nNot to the roof and ceiling of Below,\\nBut to Hell s frightful source and undertow.\\nTake not on hearsay what I will repeat,\\nBut come with me to where th foundations spring\\nAnd all things suddenly break off.\\nYou ll then excogitate why Heaven s weak\\nAnd pottering to sin.\\nLVIH.\\nAs one who cleans a well, when th rope divides,\\nFalls straight, so dove they vertically down\\nThrough many dizzy ranges of celestial calves.\\nUntil the Devil touched the brakes.\\nThey now were at the outskirts of the All.\\nThe depths below revealed the dreadful quality\\nOf infinitely far transparency.\\nOne looked, and saw, and ever farther saw.\\nAnd gained in fierce exultancy\\nSome vision from beneath to draw.\\nIn the wild reign of grandeur speck or flaw.\\nTo save the roaming brain from going mad\\nAnd in the end saw nothing.\\nTis ghastly, England said, and yawned.\\nThen pricking up her ears she said:\\nWhat is this shaft upon which seems to rest\\nThe whole of everything, but which itself\\nOn nothing stands, suspended drearily\\nOver a dizzy void?\\n133", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "I notice Hell, then Space containing worlds,\\nThen Heaven, all resting on a broken beam\\nProjecting downward in a sea of naught.\\nTis interesting, quite, and breaks the laws\\nI learned, or thought I learned, at school.\\nWhy does not all collapse and fall?\\nMy gown is rumpled by our flight!\\nCan you explain this miracle?\\nLIX.\\nThe Devil, smiling and suave, replied:\\nThis short and suddenly deceasing shaft\\nIs Hell s ground principle, and on it rests\\nAs you remarked, the whole of everything.\\nThe essence of it is that those exhibiting\\nMore brains, are lifted up above the rest.\\nThenceforward to depress their former friends.\\nThis is, in truth, the inner substance of\\nAlmighty God, I say it safely here\\nHe rests on all and holds it solid down\\nAnd never stirs himself to let it up.\\nThe last foundation of the whole, this shaft,\\nReclines on emptiness.\\nBecause this universal principle\\nAnd all the curious things it bolsters up\\nAre likewise frail and void, sustained by wind.\\nOn this slim tube not only rests the Universe\\nAnd God, the memory of what is gone,\\nThe spirits of the dead and ashes of their joys,\\nBut from It I derive my mongrel power.\\nFor were it known by men how feeble force\\nWould upset all and hell disperse,\\nWould overthrow the fairy fraudulent heaven\\nTo give the earth and space a life of beauty\\n184", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "Not emanating from my laboratory,\\nIt speedily v/ould be done, for mortals would arise\\nTo rend away the leaden yoke of hell.\\nTh All-Indolent himself fears this,\\nFor then his power would likewise end.\\nWho plays and waits eternally.\\nI therefore hold th Almighty with a bit\\nAnd run creation rather more than he.\\nI might at any instant were he cranky,\\nKnock out his prop, and drop him like a flunky\\nTo spend his time for ever in gyrations.\\nHe pays the penalty of laziness:\\nHe would not Work to give men s wrongs redress,\\nBut having destined em to wickedness\\nKept em pent up in Father Adam s gear.\\nHe should have stopped sin s inundations\\nAnd put the universe on dry foundations.\\nThis all-upholding principle which I have shown\\nAdopt more carefully, Miss Bull, to save your\\nthrone.\\nYour meek and skim-milk under-class is getting\\nrabid;\\nIt may demand the confiscations back\\nWhere loll your rich on feathers they have grab-\\nbed\\nLX.\\nAs peoples are compound of men and beasts,\\nThose up above that rob, and those below,\\nWhose heaven-implanted functions is to work\\nAnd like submissive beasts be ever robbed,\\nSo shall there be henceforth two kinds of na-\\ntions;\\nThe toiling sort, of nations lower class, despised,\\n135", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "And those interminably labored for,\\nThe chosen of the God that somewhere fills\\nHis nostrils with the contribution fat\\nOf universities and pews.\\nAnd this condition of the world shall be\\nThe work of guns and thinkers.\\nWhy do the giant masses dumbly eat\\nTheir grass, while their colossal strength\\nMeanders stricken through the dazzled dust,\\nThe eyeless freighter of the flogging world?\\nBecause, my dear, they can not think.\\nBut in the reason why they do not think.\\nIs well embalmed a mystery\\nThe most incalculably deep\\nThat ever dyed the pale earth crimson.\\nBy soothing fetters of necessity\\nAnchored to the procession of the brutes,\\nNo mind of European lower class\\nCould learn to play the instrument of thought.\\nAnd so my devils had that world their way.\\nWith shrewdness deeper in the blighted States,\\nThey skim the masses of their native brains\\nAnd leave below the fermentation scum\\nTo breed and breed, and toil, and toil, and spoil,\\nWhile those emancipated from their groveling\\nA function surgical assume.\\nThenceforth they manufacture fallacies\\nTo hold their brothers willing in the pit.\\nThis is the teeming mission I devolved\\nOn universities. They cultivate\\nThe well-skimmed mental muscle of the mass\\nWith such attuned chicanery.\\nThat it in very truth believes itself\\n136", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "Fulfilling duty to its soul, mankind,\\nEv n to its undiscoverable God,\\nWhen it performs the mire-stained destiny\\nOf filthy beast and fouls the elsewise decent\\nEarth by its bubonic tainting of tne air.\\nEngland, thou canst not trample common folk\\nToo much. They love it.\\nThe final skill is this:\\nOf all the lesser peoples, like the Boers,\\nThe Hindus, Cubans, Philippines,\\nTake those who are the brightest from the rest\\nAnd give them higher place, emolument\\nAnd dignity. Bribed by these honors and estates,\\nLet them convince their trusting countrymen\\nThat foreign rule, your yoke, is for their good.\\nDivide the citizens against themselves.\\nBut with such cunning that the many shall not\\nknow\\nThe foes they harbor in their traitor few.\\nThen will the whole earth heave and swell\\nUpon hell s basic principle.\\nLXI.\\nWhen England and the Devil returned to earth\\nThey found Bobs hunting for his reputation still\\nWith several hundred thousand Weary Atkinses,\\nAmong the rocks and rills of Africa.\\nThe Devil was displeased, but didn t show it,\\nTho his keen thoughts ran thus:\\nThis superannuated blossom\\nIs sure unfit to be my main reliance\\nUpon a planet but half civilized.\\nUntil my Christian doctrine more pervades\\nAnd weakens, a keener blade s required.\\n137", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "That blade is Sunken Sam, and him I ll delegate\\nTo be my major-gfeneral Devil here,\\nTo act while I m incorporating Venus\\nWithin th Imperial system of my love.\\nI cannot spend a longer lime on earth\\nWithout neglecting business above.\\nI ll go at once to Sam and dress him up.\\nHe kissed his lady all so lovingly\\nShe might have doubted him begrudgingly,\\nHad she one question of her full-orbed bright-\\nness\\nTo Satan she a bull of abhorred triteness.\\nSaid he, before he left his frau.\\nYour cup of bitterness is full:\\nGive up the name of Johnny Bull,\\nAnd call yourself Johanna Cow.\\nLXII.\\nSam was as usual on a railroad train\\nAddressing people on prosperity.\\nWith mourning weeds of a suff ring island on\\nThe Devil first displayed himself to Sam,\\nPleading attention in the holy name\\nOf bleeding franchises and tender game.\\nWhen Sam s harmonious ear had learned the tune\\nThe Devil conveyed him back to Washington\\nA rural spot and national cemetery\\nWhere statesmen all good objects kill and bury,\\nAnd where disease, infectious from the tomb,\\nSprings perfect product of Congressional womb.\\nTo Sam he said. Behind this Capitol rise\\nYou can unrobe in safety from men s eyes,\\n138", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "And choose the colored suitings which you like.\\nIn Hell the garment workers never strike,\\nAnd all you wish shall be delivered tonight.\\nTo undertake a picture of Sam s joy\\nWould be inquisitive, enough to say\\nThe mission be accepted, and the pay.\\nLXIII.\\nThe flag he wound about his tail,\\nAnd over that a coat of mail.\\nHe straightened out the Devil s crook\\nAnd made it like a sceptre look,\\nThen put it down between his legs.\\nAs boys play horse with wooden pegs,\\nAnd marched about and played a drum.\\nWith nose and fingers near his thumb\\nTho, as the Devil, keen and mum.\\nUpon his horns, an inch in size,\\nHe fastened cunning stars, as lies,\\nWhile stripes, to leave none of the flag\\nUnused, he put upon his nose,\\nTo represent the planet booze\\nHe was about to start upon\\nAs Satan new, and old Cheap John.\\nHis nose was red, his people white\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWith fear, the world grew blue at s ght\\nOf one so devilishly raw\\nAnd inexperienced. They cried\\nWith foresight semi-stupified:\\nThe other Devil should at least\\nRemain and tame this jungle beast.\\nBefore the world is given as ball\\nTo this inebriated bat.\\nA Devil that s played his tricks ad nauseam\\nIs less to be feared than this cad bossy Sam.\\n13^", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "LXIV.\\nHow Sam behaved himself and served his Maker,\\nBecame the most progressively aggressive fakir,\\nAchieved distinction as a moral cannibal\\nIn search of little Romes to eat like Hannibal,\\nThe Devil s censorship of pen\\nForbids the story of to men,\\nPreferring they shall simply feel it\\nWhen time has gone for them to heal it.\\nBut I shall smuggle on the wires,\\nAt risk of hell s correction fires,\\nA. brief report of Sam s first battle,\\nAnd how he cultivated Philippine cattle.\\nFrom this you can read further destiny\\nAnd learn how Sam became a testy jay.\\nLXV.\\nThere probably hasn t happened since the flood\\nMore democratic instance of duplicity.\\nThan Satan Sam discovered he could do illicitly\\nAs a most artistic design in morals and blood.\\nHe laid a Filipino on his back\\nAnd skid I love you, whack!\\nHe took an iron hammer that he had\\nAnd struck the Filipino on his head.\\nThat kind of love, he softly said, s divine:\\nYou shut your eyes and lo, you see the stars\\nIn naked costellations rain and shine.\\nHe shot the Filipino full of holes,\\nAnd said, these apertures are for the light\\nThat streams from Congress through the howling\\nnight\\n140", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "Upon the furious world, to brighten up your souls.\\nHe cut the Filipino into bits,\\nOf which he gave some to his dogs and some\\nTo politicians, and remarked, there ll come\\nA day when you ll see through these counterfeits\\nOf present pain, and aggregate your bones,\\nIn ecstacy that where a bone is lost\\nA book will take its place, and as a tube\\nOf hollow iron, hold the livid scars\\nAnd remnants of your jelly body up.\\nSaid Sam, \\\\o\\\\ir scattered bones will some time\\nstick\\nIf you cement them with our literature.\\nMilton, par excellence, is certain cure\\nFor those who fancy slavery a bore.\\nRead Areopagitica romantic.\\nTo learn how foolishly you have been frantic\\nAbout the amputation of your head.\\nFool, don t you know the joy of being dead?\\nMost all good men that ever lived are dead.\\nLXVI.\\nSam s tail, however, is the article\\nThat needs attention. It s a particle\\nDiscolored with some clots, but never mind.\\nThe next convention will a clean bill find.\\nThey call his tail Republican, for just\\nThe reason that they call last first.\\nIt is an instance where the tail\\nWags, not the dog, but wags the Devil.\\nA partisan Republican s a chap\\nWho left his conscience at Manassas Gap.\\n141", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "For Lincoln he hoorayed, and for the slave,\\nBut after laying Lincoln in the grave\\nHe fhought the progress of Creation finished,\\nSin dead, Amen, and Satan punished.\\nO, what a resurrection day hosanna\\nHe sang, unconscious of the coming Hanna!\\nJeff Davis died and let his mantle fall,\\nGod save thee Mark, upon Jeff Davis Hanna.\\nFor Jeff and mark I have no grudge agin him.\\nThe nation s parts are cooing loverly,\\nAnd many parts are stewing blubberly;\\nThe gladsome slaves are having freedom s inning,\\nIndustrially happy all and grinning\\nFrom gallows tree and cherry telegraph pole\\nFor Jeff contented died I say a\\nFact, that in the coming Mark, Isaiah,\\nThe prophet thundering after him he saw,\\nWho should complete his work, and araw\\nThe nation unto him in slavery.\\nFor Davis is to Mark, as Baptist John\\nTo Jesus or as prophet small to God.\\nThis Jeff desired only to enslave\\nThe nigger, while Mark, ambitiously, and bigger,\\nWill put this frightened continent in shackles.\\nWill treat his beggared countryman as nigger,\\nAnd keep him in subjection to the trigger.\\nLXVIL\\nSpeaking as Devil, I remark aside,\\nJ. Davis Mark was hell-heat tried\\nBy me, and tempered with professional pride\\nTo go above and throttle Freedom, and if\\nHis countrymen were conscious of his nature\\n142", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "They d send him shooting back to me, a pleasure\\nI carefully postpone a little longer.\\nUntil no Yankee men can say, I m free.\\nHanna the master of Sam s Satan-tail,\\nThe party once republican, now stale\\nDestined to bathe in America in blood\\nUnless the people pitch him in the flood\\nAnd ship him to infinity, is, I may state,\\nThe choicest of Hell s monuments to date.\\nI made him all, one afternoon, myself,\\nOut of a bag of sneaks and Judases;\\nOf nearly all the thieves that ever lived\\nI took the cream, and sprinkled in\\nThe dust of Caesar and Napoleon.\\nWhen he was done they would not let him stay in\\nHell,\\nHis hideousness made the baby devils yell.\\nUntil America had gone to proper rot\\nI had to hang him out of hell, in copper pot.\\nThe stench of him was so ineffable\\nI sealed him up with heat hermetical;\\nBut in America the sense of smelling\\nWas quite catarrhally destroyed by sense of sell-\\ning.\\nAnd no Republican, leastwise.\\nAt Marcus holds his nose or shies.\\n143", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "r", "height": "2946", "width": "1861", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": ",^Ho,\\no", "height": "2951", "width": "1893", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "m\\ny.i W", "height": "3098", "width": "2029", "jp2-path": "adventofempire00swif_0150.jp2"}}