134. This Heritage to the Race of Kings

THIS heritage to the race of kings,

Their children and their children’s seed

Have wrought their prophecies in deed

Of terrible and splendid things.

The hands that fought, the hearts that broke

In old immortal tragedies,

These have not failed beneath the skies,

Their children’s heads refuse the yoke.

And still their hands shall guard the sod

That holds their father’s funeral urn,

Still shall their hearts volcanic burn

With anger of the sons of God.

No alien sword shall earn as wage

The entail of their blood and tears,

No shameful price for peaceful years

Shall ever part this heritage.