Who favoured a commonweal and its peace
Gathered their thoughts at the Sign of the Fleece,
To sing out their anthems of liberty,
For songs charmed the censor and set tongues free.
Promoting pamphlets and seditious tracts
Were daring, but undeniable acts,
Safer to conceal refractory talk,
Then publish it on walls with sticks of chalk.
As Marsden, so London – The Rights of Man.
Before the hobgoblin, radical sense
Was set on its stall, not by Marx, but Spence.
Let the power of landlords be abated,
Let the parish be incorporated,
Let every parishioner seek good health
Through the remedy of the commonwealth.
No one will be master, no one will serve,
Justice assures all get what they deserve
In Spensonia, perfected city
Raised on foundations of equality
Where people relish contentment’s embrace,
Opulence and grandeur are commonplace,
Industry and leisure freely combine
Along both banks of an unblemished Tyne.
But, no matter how thoroughly debased,
The Crown is not so readily displaced,
While the agitator, with truths to tell,
Becomes acquainted with the prison cell:
By the Thames, it was, Spensonia fell.
All too easily ideal cities fall
And the fleece proves not golden after all.