Song

THE world's heart is kindless and grey and unholy,
  As the head of the wandering Jew,
And can never be won from the cause of its folly
  Till man to Humanity’s true;
There’s a path to redemption—but that we shall miss
  While we seek in the old warring manner;
Till we re ready to fight a new battle for this—
  The motto inscribed on our banner,—
To principles let us by loyal alway,
  And true to all good in man’s story;
Not to that mockery, royal display,
  Nor that Juggernaut, national glory!
And though ever someone, to be doughty and noted,
  Like Nimrod, should aim at a throne,
It were easy to leave him a wight unpromoted,
  To brood o’er his project alone!
Or to meet him at once with a withering hiss,
  For we love not ambition’s old manner,
We are fired for a new race of glory with this—
  The motto inscribed on our banner—
To principles let us by loyal alway,
  And true to all good in man’s story;
Not to that mockery, royal display,
  Nor that Juggernaut, national glory!

 

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