From The Sun, August 2, 1914. By McLandburgh Wilson.
This earth is as a mighty drum
Upon which beat the strokes of Fate,
While countermarching go and come
The forces which decide our state.
Advance! and Science, Letters, Art
Press forward, gaining every field;
Their banners conquer every heart
And unknown foes before them yield.
Retreat! and dark barbaric hordes
Enwrap all learning in a pall,
And Progress sinks beneath their swords
As Greece and Rome were fain to fall.
Thus victory with each is cast,
The endless battle never won,
Until upon the Drum at last
Shall beat the Dirge and all be done.