Years! Years, ye shall mix with me!

Gods of the World! Their mouths are dumb! Your guns have spoken and they are dust. But the shrouded Living, whose hearts were numb, have felt the beat of a wakening drum Within them sounding — the Dead men’s tongue — Calling: "Smite off …

Written in red their protest stands, For the Gods of the World to see; On the dooming wall their bodiless hands have blazoned "Upharsin," and flaring brands Illumine the message: "Seize the lands! Open the prisons and make men free!"

There is naught can show A life so trustless! Proud be thy crown! Ruthless, like none, save the Sea, alone!

As the peoples always move,—as Life, which is greater than the peoples, always moves. And the business of the revolutionist, the Seeker for the Changes of Old Forms, the dreamer of Liberty and Plenty, is to be with them in their struggle, …

Fair, cold, and faithless wert thou, my own! For that I love Thy heart of stone!

Bear it aloft, O roaring flame! Skyward aloft, where all may see. Slaves of the World! Our cause is the same; One is the immemorial shame; One is the struggle, and in One name — Manhood— we battle to set men free.