John Stuart Blackie (1809–1895)

STATUES on statues piled, and in the hand

Of each memorial man a soldier’s sword!

Fit emblem of a tame and subject land,

Mustered and marked by a drill-sergeant-lord.

And these long lines of formal streets, that go

In rank and file, by a great captain’s skill

Were marched into this cold and stately show,

Where public order palsies private will.

Order is strong; strong law the stars commands;

But birds by wings, and thought by freedom lives;

The crystalled stone compact and foursquare stands,

But man by surging self-born impulse strives.

Much have ye done, lords of exact Berlin,

But one thing fails,—the soul to your machine!