Explore "The Falling of Thrones" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Above the din of commerce, above the clamour and rattle / Of labour disputing with riches, of Anarchists' threats and groans, / Above the hurry and hustle and roar of that bloodless battle, / Where men are fighting for riches, I hear the falling of thrones.
I see no savage host, I hear no martial drumming, / But down in the dust at our feet lie the useless crowns of kings; / And the mighty spirit of Progress is steadily coming, coming, / And the flag of one republic abroad to the world he flings.
The Universal Republic, where worth, not birth, is royal; / Where the lowliest born may climb on a self-made ladder to fame; / Where the highest and proudest born, if he be not true and loyal, / Shall find no masking title to cover and gild his shame.
Not with the bellow of guns and not with sabres whetting, / But with growing minds of men is waged this swordless fray; / While over the dim horizon the sun of royalty, setting, / Lights, with a dying splendour, the humblest toiler's way.