By Gerald Desmond
Right is might in every time
So runs the stern grim law;
And every age and every clime
Has seen the same stern war—
Peoples enslaved and victories won,
From courts upheld by maxim gun
Back to the fang and claw.
Ethics and creeds have had their day,
Prophets have come to save;
Ethics and creeds have passed away,
Prophets find their graves.
Still every race or class of man
Take what they may, hold what they can,
The weakling still to slave.
So ’tis today as all may see,
Spite of each lie and fraud.
The veil of sham democracy
But hides the naked sword.
The slave still writhes beneath the heel,
And rule of right is rule of steel—
King Plute the overlord.
Slaves of the old times crouched in fright
Beneath the Tyrant’s frown;
They nursed their strength and—might is right—
Red blazed each stricken town.
They lived or died, it matters naught,
They struck their blow, they had their sport
They pulled the masters down.
’Tis force, ’tis strength that holdeth ye—
Thralls of the proletaire—
’This force, ’tis power that maketh free—
Not whine, nor moan, nor prayer,
“Love,” “Justice,” “Brotherhood”—forsooth
Might’s Right and that’s the only truth,
Strike hard and do not spare.
Our time comes soon, we mark, we learn,
The hours grow big with fate;
The quickening fires of vengeance burn,
The white hot flames of hate.
Might’s right —the battle’s to the strong,
They hold us now, but not for long,
We gather, watch and wait.
Western Clarion, September 3, 1910