We are not weak, but strong.
We parley not, and we cannot wait;
We march with a freeman's song.
We claim for meed what a life we can need
That lives as a life should live--
Not less, not more, From the plenteous store
Which freeborn labors give!

We shall shape a world as a world should be,
With room enough for all.
We will rear a race of the wise and free,
And not of the great and small.
And the heart and the mind of humankind
Shall drink to the dregs of good,
Forgetting the tears of the darker years,
And the curse of bondman's blood.

In vain you soften the voice of greed,
In vain you speak us fair;
The time is late, and we hark nor heed;
In gladness still we dare.
Yield, then, yield to the force we wield,
To the masses of our might;
We are countless strong at the throat of wrong
The warriors of the right!

Yes, we are the captains of the earth
And the warders of the sea--
Of a race new born in nobler birth,
The mighty and the free!