How broad the reach of weathered time. No tyrant can escape or (give the) slip. Neither fortune nor with fury From that long icy grip. Whos unchanging gaze stolid sweeps the horizon for neer-do-well, with grit Sets its jaw firmly squared, with the big iron on his hip. (lol) Hurry hurry, all hell and its fury approaches now swift as the dawn Liberty rides, with vengeance burning And justice, bloody justice, is her song All a flurry, now for rage. All come ye devils; gather to me And turn your coats red, rebels, with the savage blood of tyranny. * * * * * disclaimer - poetry covered under 1st amendment, not an encouragement to terrorism or violence.