Pro Patria

Better to die, where gallant men are dying, Than to live on with them that basely fly: Better to fall, the soulless Fates defying, Than unassailed to wander vainly, trying To turn one's face from an accusing sky!

Days matter not, nor years to the undaunted; To live is nothing,—but to nobly live! The poorest visions of the honor-haunted Are better worth than pleasure-masks enchanted, And they win life who life for others give.

The planets in their watchful course behold them— To live is nothing,—but to nobly live!— For though the Earth with mother-hands remold them, Though Ocean in his billowy arms enfold them, They are as gods, who life to others give!

Patient she is—long-suffering, our Land; Wise with the strength of one whose soul in calm Weighs and considers, and would understand Ere it gives way to anger: fearing wrong Of her own doing more than any planned Against her peace by others deemed more strong.

Mother of many children alien born, Whom she has gathered into her kind arms,— Safe-guarding most the weakest, most forlorn,— The mother's patience she has learned to know, Which passes trifles by with smiling scorn— The mother's hopefulness, to anger slow.

Yet, oh, beware! nor, over-bold, presume Upon a gentleness enlikened with Power! Her torch still burns, to kindle or consume, And 'gainst the time when she must prove her might, Vast energy is stored in her soul's room— Undreamed of strength to battle for the Right!

If they tell you that we hold Right and wrong are much the same: That with equal share of blame The defender of the fold And the ravening wolf we name— Don't believe it!

If they tell you that we think, When the robber comes by night And we see 'neath murderous Might Innocence unfriended sink, We should be "too proud to fight"— Don't believe it!

If they tell you we are cold When strong men, and maids as brave, May not life from bondage save— We who gave unstinted gold, And our heart's blood, for the slave!— Don't believe it!

If—O gallant souls and true!— If they tell you we judge well Ways of Heaven and ways of Hell: That the honor dear to you Also in our souls doth dwell— Oh, believe it!

If they tell you our heart's cry: That, whate'er the danger near, One, one only loss we fear; And are ready, too, to—die For the things that you hold dear— Oh, believe it!

Under our own flag, still we will sail her— Gallantly sail her, our own Ship of State; Faiths we have lived by still shall avail her, Hope at her prow, wing'd, expectant, elate!

Over the deeps of a perilous ocean, Honor compelling, we still will sail on; Giving, unfearing, a loyal devotion, Until, in life—in death, danger is gone.

Deem not that we, whom our fathers before us Taught to love freedom and died to make free, Coward shall fly, while the Heavens are o'er us, Craft of the ether or boats under sea.

There is in valor that hearkens to duty— Something that dearer may be than long years; And in man's service may be a beauty Higher than glory, and deeper than tears.

We have been sleeping—dreaming. Now, Thank God! we are awake! Awake, and ready with a will The nobler part to take! No more shall a pretended Peace Our souls from duty sever; We dedicate our lives to God And Liberty—forever!

We, who have looked with anguished eyes On things no eye should see, Beholding all that may be wrought By ruthless Tyranny, Join hands with you, devoted Lands, A liberated Nation That wills to share your sacrifice, That knows your exaltation!

A lofty voice has spoken words That bring the world relief; Our Land has joined the league of Right, Led onward by her Chief— Her Chief who large has writ his name With Lincoln's in the story Of that dear land which still may call The flag she loves, "Old Glory!"

We have hung out the flags that we love best— The British, the French and our own; Adoring we see them together, That never together were flown! And we feel in the bond is a blessing For every grief to atone.

O flag of my own Land, give welcome! Be proud to embrace, fold with fold, These emblems of service heroic Whose measure can never be told: These banners that speak to the future Of honor that shall not grow old!

Across them is Sacrifice written; They voice peoples generous, brave, Who, suffering all men can suffer This side of eternity, gave Their best with unflinching devotion, The wronged and the helpless to save.

They poured out their hearts' blood for freedom; They stood in the terrible way, And bore the full brunt of the onslaught That darkened the sun at noonday. We gaze with dimmed eyes on their Colors, Our souls strong for duty as they!

We will stand with high hearts by our Allies, With fear of no evil but shame; We will face coward Death and outface him, In Liberty's eloquent name; For we're of the brood of the Lion That Tyranny never could tame!

Live thy life gallantly and undismayed: Whatever harms may hide within the shade, Be thou of fear, my spirit! more afraid.

In earthly pathways evil springeth rife; But dread not thou, too much, or pain or strife That plunge thee to the greater depths of life!

What though the storm-cloud holds the bolt that sears? The eagle of the crag, that nothing fears, Still, still is young after a hundred years!