Swords and Plowshares/Dreyfus "Guilty"
Dreyfus "Guilty".png){kind=small}
"HONOR" the child of forgeries and lies—
"Glory," a dream of all-devouring hate
And carnage and revenge insatiate—
"Patriotism," the sum of vanities—
These be the jewels, O France, thy rulers prize;
These be the principles of which they prate,
Bewitched by epithets that once were great,
But careless when the substance of them dies.
"Glory," a dream of all-devouring hate
And carnage and revenge insatiate—
"Patriotism," the sum of vanities—
These be the jewels, O France, thy rulers prize;
These be the principles of which they prate,
Bewitched by epithets that once were great,
But careless when the substance of them dies.
What do I hear? Is it the rising flood
Of some new Terror gathering in the night?
The sea breeze bears a sickening smell of blood,
And foaming redness mingles with the white.
O horror! Yet could less obliterate
The festering pool of Army, Church, and State?
Of some new Terror gathering in the night?
The sea breeze bears a sickening smell of blood,
And foaming redness mingles with the white.
O horror! Yet could less obliterate
The festering pool of Army, Church, and State?