0 Fathers of the Nation,
We struggle in thy name;
Each man was at his station
Ere yet the summons came.
We felt our country calling,
And sprang into the fray—
0 in thy might appalling,
Withhold not victory.

We ask that right be given,
And justice where 'tis due;
Reward for those who’ve striven
And did the best they knew.
But punish those, who lying,
Have wrought thee evil deeds;
And pardon those denying,
Who follow other creeds.

Our country is far dearer
Than closer bonds of blood;
For we would see far clearer,
The nation's common good.
Enlighten thou our labor;
Invest us with thy might;
So that we may not waver
While battling for the right.

We would our country flourished;
That all may at her breast,
Suckling as babes, be nourished,
Nor fail in fruitless quest;
That she, our mighty mother,
Will see the day come by,
When man calls man "0 brother!"
And all shall know the tie.

0 Fathers of the Nation,
We struggle in thy name;
Each man was at his station
Ere yet the summons came.
We felt our country calling,
And sprang into the fray—
0 in thy might appalling,
Withhold not victory.

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Copyright © 2005 by Dan Wichlan
This poem was published with the written permission of the Jack London estate.
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