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| WE willed it not. We have not lived in hate, | |
| Loving too well the shires of England thrown | |
| From sea to sea to covet your estate, | |
| Or wish one flight of fortune from your throne. | |
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| We had grown proud because the nations stood | 5 |
| Hoping together against the calumny | |
| That, tortured of its old barbarian blood, | |
| Barbarian still the heart of man should be. | |
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| Builders there are who name you overlord, | |
| Building with us the citadels of light, | 10 |
| Who hold as we this chartered sin abhorred, | |
| And cry you risen Cæsar of the Night. | |
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| Beethoven speaks with Milton on this day, | |
| And Shakespeare’s word with Goethe’s beats the sky, | |
| In witness of the birthright you betray, | 15 |
| In witness of the vision you deny. | |
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| We love the hearth, the quiet hills, the song, | |
| The friendly gossip come from every land; | |
| And very peace were now a nameless wrong— | |
| You thrust this bitter quarrel to our hand. | 20 |
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| For this your pride the tragic armies go, | |
| And the grim navies watch along the seas; | |
| You trade in death, you mock at life, you throw | |
| To God the tumult of your blasphemies. | |
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| You rob us of our love-right. It is said. | 25 |
| In treason to the world you are enthroned. | |
| We rise, and, by the yet ungathered dead, | |
| Not lightly shall the treason be atoned. | |
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