Bulletin, Edições 1-11

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U.S. Government Printing Office, 1912

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Página 12 - If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, Such boasting as the Gentiles use Or lesser breeds without the law, Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.
Página 10 - Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite ; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold ; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand ; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Página 15 - New occasions teach new duties; Time makes ancient good uncouth; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth; Lo! before us gleam her camp-fires, we ourselves must Pilgrims be. Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's bloodrusted key.
Página 12 - The tumult and the shouting dies — The captains and the kings depart — Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart.
Página 6 - THIS is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah ! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, When the death-angel touches those swift' keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies...
Página 5 - That the land was red with the blood they shed In their lust for carnage, blind. And he said, "Alas, that ever I made, Or that skill of mine should plan, The spear and the sword for men whose joy Is to slay their fellow-man!
Página 10 - Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Página 5 - Old Tubal Cain was a man of might, In the days when earth was young; By the fierce red light of his furnace bright. The strokes of his hammer rung; And he lifted high his brawny hand On the iron glowing clear. Till the sparks- rushed out in scarlet showers. As he fashioned the sword and spear.
Página 10 - WHERE is the true man's fatherland ? Is it where he by chance is born ? Doth not the yearning spirit scorn In such scant borders to be spanned ? O, yes ' his fatherland must be As the blue heaven wide and free...
Página 13 - New arts shall bloom of loftier mould, And mightier music thrill the skies, And every life shall be a song When all the earth is paradise.

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