Explore "An Ode, Written October, 1819, before the Spaniards had Recovered their Liberty" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian.
Arise, arise, arise! / There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread; / Be your wounds like eyes / To weep for the dead, the dead, the dead. / What other grief were it just to pay? / Your sons, your wives, your brethren, were they; / Who said they were slain on the battle day?
Awaken, awaken, awaken! / The slave and the tyrant are twin-born foes; / Be the cold chains shaken / To the dust where your kindred repose, repose: / Their bones in the grave will start and move, / When they hear the voices of those they love, / Most loud in the holy combat above.