Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.
By Heinrich Heine
I know not if I deserve that a laurel-wreath should one day be laid on my coffin. Poetry, dearly as I have loved it, has always been to me but a divine plaything. I have never attached any great value to poetical fame; and I trouble myself very little whether people praise my verses or blame them. But lay on my coffin a sword; for I was a brave soldier in the Liberation War of humanity.
THE MILITANT
CHARLES A. WINTER