They shall go down unto life’s Borderland,
Walk unafraid within that Living Hell,
Nor heed the driving rain of shot and shell
That round them falls; but with uplifted hand
Be one with mighty hosts, an armed band
Against man’s wrong to man-for such full well
They know. And from their trembling lips shall swell
A song of hope the world can understand
All this to them shall be a glorious sign,
A glimmer of that resurrection morn
When age-long faith, crowned with a grace benign,
Shall rise and from their brows cast down the thorn
Of prejudice.
