Life of John Boyle O'Reilly — Chapter 16

Thunder our thanks to her—guns, hearts, and lips!Cheer from the ranks to her,Shout from the banks to her—"Mayflower!" Foremost and best of our ships.

"Then to side with Truth is noble, when we share her wretched crust.Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just;Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside,Doubting in his abject spirit, while his Lord is crucified.And the multitude make virtue of the faith they have denied."

Singers there are of courtly themes—Drapers in verse—who would dress their rhymesIn robes of ermine; and singers of dreamsOf gods high-throned in the classic times;Singers of nymphs, in their dim retreats,Satyrs, with scepter and diadem;But the singer who sings as a man's heart beatsWell may blush for the rest of them.

I like the thrill of such poems as these—All spirit and fervor of splendid fact—Pulse and muscle and arteriesOf living, heroic thought and act,Where every line is a vein of redAnd rapturous blood, all unconfined.As it leaps from a heart that has joyed and bledWith the rights and the wrongs of all mankind.

Nature is higher than Progress or Knowledge, whose need is ninety enslaved for ten;My words shall stand against mart and college: The planet BELONGS TO ITS LIVING MEN!

No treason we bring from Erin—nor bring we shame nor guilt!The sword we hold may be broken, but we have not dropped the hilt!The wreath we bear to Columbia is twisted of thorns, not bays;And the songs we sing are saddened by thoughts of desolate days.But the hearts we bring for Freedom are washed in the surge, of tears;And we claim our right by a People's fight, outliving a thousand years.