“I will sing you that song now，comrades. I am old and and my voice is hoarse，but when I have taught you the tune ，you can sing it better for yourselves. It is called Beasts of England.”
Old Major cleared his throat and began to sing. As he had said，his voice was hoarse，but he sang well enough，and it was a stirring tune，something between Clementine and La Cucaracba. The words ran：
Beast of England，beast of Ireland，
Beast 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’verthrown，
And the fruitful fields of England
Shall be trod by beast 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【n. 一种喂牛用的甜菜】
Shall be ours upon that day.
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