  WE the People, not the Crown, Not the surplice nor the brand, Noble’s crest nor schoolman’s gown, Burse nor rostrum, grange nor town,— We the People rule our land. We the People, not the Few, High nor low nor middle class, High and low and middle too, Freemen, he and I and you, We the multitude, the mass. Dumb we plodded feudal years, Goaded by the lash of scorn; Groaning, wept a sea of tears; Lo! at last our day appears, Dawn of the millennial morn! Asia deemed our woe decreed, Brahm nor Buddha heard our cry, Europe heard with sullen heed, Prince and Pontiff mocked our need, Making Christ a bitter lie. Demagogue nor Demigod Shall again control the World; Man awoke! disdained the rod, Spurned the despot whip and prod, To the dust his rider hurled. Man has come unto his own; Broken are his bands and bars; Faith’s futurity foreknown Domes a sky of promise sown Thick with happy-omened stars. Zealous, not iconoclast, We would spare the ancient true; Life in death is rooted fast; And the fruitage of the Past Is the Passing,—is the New. Azure blood and haughty crest, Blazon of heraldic scroll, Coin in coffer, star on breast,— These are good, but better, best, Is the rank, the wealth, of soul. Earth grows better growing old, Still by happier races trod; Plato’s iron men are gold; Large humanities unfold; Evolution’s law is—God. We the People, We the State, Subject, Sovereign, both in one, Trust in Highest Potentate. Trust, O World, in Us and wait. God has willed our will be done. |
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