In your onward march, O men, White of face, in promise whiter, You unsheathe the sword, and then Blame the wronged as the fighter. Time, ah, Time, rolls onward o’er All these foetid fields of evil, While hard at the nation’s core Eat the burning rust and weevil! Nathless, out beyond the stars Reigns the Wiser and the Stronger, Seeing in all strifes and wars Who the wronged, who the wronger. |