The Free Press
Hail, young Prometheus, risen again to Time,The friend of man and foeman of man’s Foe!Climb the new heavens and seize the nobler fire.Still teach the wisdom of the plough and loom,The sweetness of the threshold and the hearth.Be to the sower of the field a signTo point the circuits of the frost, a voiceTo cry the coming of the hurricane.Be to the scholar, by his waning lamp,A bringer of the tidings of the stars,News of the forces and the frame of things.Be to the poet, leagued with Death and Eld,A Memnon whisper of the Mystery,Life’s lofty joy and immemorial grief.Be to the calm historian a glassWhere, through the rush of phantoms, he can seeThe majesty and quietness of Truth,The craft of God, the lure and threat of Time.Hail, Titan, with the hair upon your breast!Be terrible in battle to throw downThe stronghold of the traitors and their crew.Flash down the sky-born lightnings of the Pen;Let loose the cramped-up thunders of the Types.Hurl on the Jupiter of Greed enthronedDefiance, endless challenge, fire of scorn.Stand out upon the walls of darkness—standA young god with a bugle at his lipsTo rouse the watchmen sleeping on their towers.Fling out the banner of the People’s Right—A flag in love with all the winds of heaven;Plunge your dread sword into the Spoiler’s den;Hurl down into the faces of the thievesThe blaze of its intolerable light....Fail not, for in your failure Freedom fails!
Hail, young Prometheus, risen again to Time,The friend of man and foeman of man’s Foe!Climb the new heavens and seize the nobler fire.Still teach the wisdom of the plough and loom,The sweetness of the threshold and the hearth.Be to the sower of the field a signTo point the circuits of the frost, a voiceTo cry the coming of the hurricane.Be to the scholar, by his waning lamp,A bringer of the tidings of the stars,News of the forces and the frame of things.Be to the poet, leagued with Death and Eld,A Memnon whisper of the Mystery,Life’s lofty joy and immemorial grief.Be to the calm historian a glassWhere, through the rush of phantoms, he can seeThe majesty and quietness of Truth,The craft of God, the lure and threat of Time.Hail, Titan, with the hair upon your breast!Be terrible in battle to throw downThe stronghold of the traitors and their crew.Flash down the sky-born lightnings of the Pen;Let loose the cramped-up thunders of the Types.Hurl on the Jupiter of Greed enthronedDefiance, endless challenge, fire of scorn.Stand out upon the walls of darkness—standA young god with a bugle at his lipsTo rouse the watchmen sleeping on their towers.Fling out the banner of the People’s Right—A flag in love with all the winds of heaven;Plunge your dread sword into the Spoiler’s den;Hurl down into the faces of the thievesThe blaze of its intolerable light....Fail not, for in your failure Freedom fails!
Hail, young Prometheus, risen again to Time,The friend of man and foeman of man’s Foe!Climb the new heavens and seize the nobler fire.Still teach the wisdom of the plough and loom,The sweetness of the threshold and the hearth.Be to the sower of the field a signTo point the circuits of the frost, a voiceTo cry the coming of the hurricane.Be to the scholar, by his waning lamp,A bringer of the tidings of the stars,News of the forces and the frame of things.Be to the poet, leagued with Death and Eld,A Memnon whisper of the Mystery,Life’s lofty joy and immemorial grief.Be to the calm historian a glassWhere, through the rush of phantoms, he can seeThe majesty and quietness of Truth,The craft of God, the lure and threat of Time.Hail, Titan, with the hair upon your breast!Be terrible in battle to throw downThe stronghold of the traitors and their crew.Flash down the sky-born lightnings of the Pen;Let loose the cramped-up thunders of the Types.Hurl on the Jupiter of Greed enthronedDefiance, endless challenge, fire of scorn.Stand out upon the walls of darkness—standA young god with a bugle at his lipsTo rouse the watchmen sleeping on their towers.Fling out the banner of the People’s Right—A flag in love with all the winds of heaven;Plunge your dread sword into the Spoiler’s den;Hurl down into the faces of the thievesThe blaze of its intolerable light....Fail not, for in your failure Freedom fails!
Hail, young Prometheus, risen again to Time,
The friend of man and foeman of man’s Foe!
Climb the new heavens and seize the nobler fire.
Still teach the wisdom of the plough and loom,
The sweetness of the threshold and the hearth.
Be to the sower of the field a sign
To point the circuits of the frost, a voice
To cry the coming of the hurricane.
Be to the scholar, by his waning lamp,
A bringer of the tidings of the stars,
News of the forces and the frame of things.
Be to the poet, leagued with Death and Eld,
A Memnon whisper of the Mystery,
Life’s lofty joy and immemorial grief.
Be to the calm historian a glass
Where, through the rush of phantoms, he can see
The majesty and quietness of Truth,
The craft of God, the lure and threat of Time.
Hail, Titan, with the hair upon your breast!
Be terrible in battle to throw down
The stronghold of the traitors and their crew.
Flash down the sky-born lightnings of the Pen;
Let loose the cramped-up thunders of the Types.
Hurl on the Jupiter of Greed enthroned
Defiance, endless challenge, fire of scorn.
Stand out upon the walls of darkness—stand
A young god with a bugle at his lips
To rouse the watchmen sleeping on their towers.
Fling out the banner of the People’s Right—
A flag in love with all the winds of heaven;
Plunge your dread sword into the Spoiler’s den;
Hurl down into the faces of the thieves
The blaze of its intolerable light....
Fail not, for in your failure Freedom fails!