And our reward? In this wan land, In clientage of Greed, Despised, polluted, maimed and banned, To wander and—to breed. - Bernard O'Dowd

When, comrades, we thrill to the message of speaker in highway or hall,
The voice of the poet is reaching the silenter poet in all:
And again, as of old, when the flames are to leap up the turrets of Wrong,
Shall the torch of the New Revolution be lit from the words of a Song!

Ah, Love, the earth is woe’s And sadly helpers needs:
And, till its burden goes, Our work is—where it bleeds.

All that we love in olden lands and lore Was signal of her coming long ago!
Bacon foresaw her, Campanella, More, And Plato’s eyes were with her star aglow!