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 Till they learned that the men who have changed the world with the world have disagreed; That the remnant is right, when the masses are led like sheep to the pen; For the instinct of equity slumbers till roused by instinctive men.

It is not enough to win rights from a king and write them down in a book. New men, new lights; and the fathers' code the sons may never brook. What is liberty now were license then: their freedom our yoke would be; And each new decade must have new men to determine its liberty. Mankind is a marching army, with a broadening front the while: Shall it crowd its bulk on the farm-paths, or clear to the outward file? Its pioneers are the dreamers who fear neither tongue nor pen Of the human spiders whose silk is wove from the lives of toiling men.