THE SONG OF STRENGTH
We have washed our hands of the blood, we have turned at length
From the strait blind alleys of death to the way of peace;
Gladly we labour, singing the song of our strength,
The strength of man long-fettered that finds release:
The splendid body of man; O hand and eye
Working in trained accord! O flying feet!
The play of muscle in leg and shoulder and thigh,
Strong to endure or to strive, sublime, complete: