We vaunt ourselves and puff our chests with pride,
Saying that man was ne'er so civilized,
No age so cultured. How the gods must smile
At such a paradox, at such a lie!
With frightful ingenuity, perhaps,
We have amassed a quantity of means
Whereby to sow destruction and to kill
Each other; yet the thought cannot be crushed
That, to be civilized means something more.
It is so trivial, for here are we,
Who are but particles upon a world,
Itself a minute atom lost in space,
At war with one another, filled with hate
And lust to kill and primal savag'ry.
What is the use, when all is said and done,
If we have hurried to eternity
The souls of many million fellow-men?
Our lives are but a moment in all time,
A fleeting instant, quickly come and gone;
Why fret ourselves in order to curtail
The short existences of other men?
And yet, in order to achieve this end
We suffer untold hardships, spend our wealth,
Endure the indescribable, and strain
Our ev'ry sinew, muscle, energy,
And name us patriots!
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