Tossing the flags of the nations to flame:

I am the breath of God. I am His laughter.

I am His Liberty. That is my name.

Flags, in themselves, are but rags that are dyed.

Flags, in that wind, are like nations enskied.

See, how they grapple the night as it rolls

And trample it under like triumphing souls.

Over the city that never knew sleep,

Look at the riotous folds as they leap.

[7]Thousands of tri-colors, laughing for France,

[7]

Ripple and whisper and thunder and dance;

Thousands of flags for Great Britain aflame

Answer their sisters in Liberty's name.

Belgium is burning in pride overhead.

Poland is near, and her sunrise is red.

Under and over, and fluttering between,

Italy burgeons in red, white, and green.

See, how they climb like adventurous flowers,

Over the tops of the terrible towers....

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