(in which 2 million, then 800,000 and finally
          200,000 ordinary people strove to be heard -
          against a greedy war and for a lawful peace)

Look, Blair, on this strange island now -
The people's lights to your despair discover;
Stand shaking here
And silenced be,
That through the channels of your ear
May thunder like lost breakers
The baying sound of the free.

Here at the city's centre pause
Where all Whitehall forms by outside, and Her tall railed gates
Rail at the gait
And force of their stride,
And the shouted slogans shaming your stupid strife
May lodge the truth just
A moment in your soul's side.

Far off like storm-borne hail the planes
Fan out upon their fatal, bidden missions,
And this bleak view
Good, God, should yet daunt
And move in guilt and woe as now these crowds do,
That call for Euan's service
And all your futures throughout the wide world haunt.

                    (Apologies to W. H. Auden)