A dead man’s voice, by living men renewed

And women, dares democracy

To self-respect: “Open the lands! Let mankind share

The ample livelihood they bear!”—

Then not in vain have the poor known distress,

Teaching the rich that happiness

Is something no man may—possess.

Little by little we, whose fathers fought

Impassioned, are ashamed

Of the familiar thought

That waste of blood is honourable feud:

Little by little from the wondering land

The agitation and the lie of war

Shall pass; for in the heart disclaimed

Murder shall be abandoned by the hand.

And while there grows a fellowship of unshed blood

To stop the wound and heal the scar

Of time, with sudden glorious aptitude

Woman assumes her part. Her pity in a flood

Flings down the gate.

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