BEASTS OF ENGLAND

"Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland, Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings Of the golden future time.
Soon or late the day is coming, Tyrant Man shall be o’erthrown,
And the fruitful fields of England Shall be trod by beasts alone.
Rings shall vanish from our noses, And the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever, Cruel whips no more shall crack.
Riches more than mind can picture, Wheat and barley, oats and hay,
Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels Shall be ours upon that day.
Bright will shine the fields of England, Purer shall its waters be,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.
For that day we all must labour, Though we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys, All must toil for freedom’s sake.
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland, Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken well and spread my tidings Of the golden future time. (Orwell, 12-13)"

"The singing of this song threw the animals into the wildest excitement. Almost before Major had reached the end, they had begun singing it for them- selves. Even the stupidest of them had already picked up the tune and a few of the words, and as for the clever ones, such as the pigs and dogs, they had the entire song by heart within a few minutes. And then, after a few preliminary tries, the whole farm burst out into Beasts of England in tremendous unison. (Orwell,13)"

"Above all, the tune and even the words of Beasts of England were known everywhere. It had spread with astonishing speed. The human beings could not contain their rage when they heard this song, though they pretended to think it merely ridiculous. They could not understand, they said, how even animals could bring themselves to sing such contemptible rubbish. Any animal caught singing it was given a flog- ging on the spot. And yet the song was irrepressible. (Orwell, 39)

"At last, feeling this to be in some way a substitute for the words she was unable to find, she began to sing Beasts of England. The other animals sitting round her took it up, and they sang it three times over — very tunefully, but slowly and mournfully, in a way they had never sung it before. (Orwell, 87)"

"So Beasts of England was heard no more. In its place Minimus, the poet, had composed another song which began:
Animal Farm, Animal Farm,
Never through me shalt thou come to harm! (Orwell, 88)"