Classic Poem

This is the song
Of kinsmen strong
Standing at guard
In the gates of earth:—

“Side by side
Our flags flung wide
Proclaim the pride
Of our kindred birth.

“All ye of the brood
Of an alien blood
Take count of our folk
No longer twain.
Not twain, but one,
By the tides that run
With new warmth won
In each kindred vein.

“Take note all ye,
Of the alien knee,
Of the faith that fires
Our hearts and thews.
One in our creed
And one in our need,
In daring and deed
We shall win, not lose.

“Be counseled, each
Of the alien speech,
From polar barren,
To isle empearled:
This shout you hear
So near and clear
Is the marching cheer
Of the lords of the world.

“Stout heart by heart
We work our part
That light may broaden
And law command.
This is our place
By right of race,
By God's good grace
And the strength of our hand.

“The strength of our hand
On every land
Till the master-work
Of the world be done:
For the slave's release,
For the bond of peace,
That wars may cease
From under the sun.”