Nevertheless
| In your onward march, O men, White of face, in promise whiter, You unsheathe the sword, and then Blame the wronged as the fighter. | |
| Time, ah, Time, rolls onward o’er All these foetid fields of evil, While hard at the nation’s core Eat the burning rust and weevil! | |
| Nathless, out beyond the stars Reigns the Wiser and the Stronger, Seeing in all strifes and wars Who the wronged, who the wronger. |