Endurance (poem)

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In Memory of Ferrer

By George E. Bowen.

When all the gold is counted, and all the profit won,
And not a butchery of faith in manhood left undone,
Survey with me the splendors the vandal victors keep
While honor's few defenders beside the ruins weep.

When all the love is traded for license and for shame,
And fellowship forgotten, and truth a blotted name,
Content us with the power that owns a world of slaves
With baser dogs to drive them to hope-consuming graves.

When all the arts of murder and all the guns of hate
Have left but fiends and felons to guard the social state,
How will the fruit of labor their ghoulish passions feast
When men no longer suffer the fury of the beast?