Might is right when children die
By thousands in the mills,
When jeweled hands reach down and take
The gold their blood distills;
And might is right when maidens give
Their love-dreams up for pay—
"'Tis the logic of the ancient world,
And the gospel of today."
Might was, it is, it e'er will be,
The one and only right;
And so, O hosts of toil, awaken!
O workingmen, unite!
Unite! Unite! For might is right—
'Tis freedom's only way—
"'Tis the logic of the ancient world,
And the gospel of today."
✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
THE MADMAN'S BOAST
What know you of madness, you whose minds have never gone astray?
You whose souls have never wandered from the path of common clay?
You who know no other kingdom save this sorrow-stricken earth,
Where you wander in the barrens 'neath the curse of mortal birth!
Lo! how dare you call me crazy? You who live down in the plain,
Far beneath the dazzling empire of the man you call insane!
You are the same forever, just a sentient, moving clod,
While to-day I am a mortal and to-morrow I am God!
I who walk this floor of diamonds, with my head among the stars,
While you dream your keepers hold me chained behind your prison bars!
I who hear immortal music, soft, strange raphsodies divine,
Played for me by master demons when the moons of madness shine!
I who range the clouds of evening when the western sun sinks low,
Drunken with undying splendor and afire with the glow!
I who dwell with Love and Laughter, who the face of Joy behold,
And who never yet have worshiped at the cloven feet of Gold!
You! 'tis you who are the madman! You whose eyes are on the ground,
Kneeling with Ahriman's angels, with the gyves of custom bound!
You who never knew the pleasure and who never felt the pain
Of the souls who roam the empire of the man you call insane!
—11—
