With those that bred, with those that loosed the strife, He had no part whose hands were clear of gain; But subtle, strong, and stubborn, gave his life To a lost cause, and knew the gift was vain. Later shall rise a people, sane and great, Forged in strong fires, by equal war made one; Telling old battles over without hate — Not least his name shall pass from sire to son. He may not meet the onsweep of our van In the doomed city when we close the score; Yet o`er his grave — his grave that holds a man — Our deep-tongued guns shall answer his once more!SourceThe script ran 0.003 seconds.
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