The Song of the Crusaders
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The Song of the Crusaders.

Freemen of England! born upon an isle
Steel-girt, inviolate, bred beneath a sky
That looketh down with a benignant smile
Upon the ancient shrine of Liberty:

We go full-breasted, well in one desire-
Flinging our vested lives into the van,
Meeting the iron rack, the hail of fire,
To bring humanity again to Man.

We go, in courage equal and in breed,
Break thro' the barrier of Teutonic hate
To save a Nation from the power of Greed,
And rescue man from slavish, sinister fate.

We leave behind our heritage, desires,
Intoxicating loves, our dreams of Youth,
Life's guerdon of sweet Ease-to quench the fires
That would reduce to ashes noble Truth.

We march to death singing our deathless songs,
Like Knights invested with a purpose high,
Towards a flaming barrier of wrongs-
To show how freemen live, how freemen die.

And should we pass out there on Flanders plains
Our spirits will return to that green spot
Amid the seas where Liberty remains
A shrine amid Life's ruins not forgot:
And Youth within the span of future years
Will hear our phantom armies marching by:
The tramp of freemen-adamant to fears-
Showing them how for Liberty to die!




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