The clink of the warrior's trade,
And the thund'rous call where the hammers fall,
And the steam-power shrieks o'er the factory wall,
Where the rifled guns are made.
The Breath of the Lord may rule the sea,
And the Lies of Men the land;
And the craft of the tongue may hold in fee
The strength of the heavy hand;
But though tongues may quicken and strength may sicken,
And hands grow soft and small,