Red, red have flowed their streams and rills,
They’re sown with human woes and sighs.
Look at us in tender heartedness,
All in hunger dire and nakedness,
Forging freedom in unhappiness,
Toiling ever without blessedness.
The bones of soldiers bleaching lie,
In blood and tears must many die.
[[71]]
In faith, there’s widows’ tears, I think,