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When people of my hoary age

Fight for life at the embattled border,

Undeterred by the bitter of the chill,

Or by the strangulations wrought by order

Of authority deaf to human sound,

Smirking reptilian at their plight,

Is it meet that I look for a pillow

To go into a tired, restful night?


Let me rather draw example from those

Who spoke of life in their dying breath,

And snatched warm human camraderie

And denied justice from the jaws of death.


Let death come when it will

While I am still busy serving life;

What place can fearful nullity have

In the middle of exuberant strife?


The hereafter is here upon the earth

Where alone is my foe and friend;

Our comings and our goings are mysteries

That distract us from the task at hand.


Let the mysteries be left to god

Who is best equipped to answer them;

Let us nurse the wound and fight the Pharaoh

As the surest pathway to Kingdom Come.

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