Save
Ever reviled, accursed, ne’er understood,Thou art the grisly terror of our age.”Wreck of all order,” cry the multitude,”Art thou, & war & murder’s endless rage.”0, let them cry. To them that ne’er have strivenThe ‘truth that lies behind a word to find, To them the word’s right meaning was not given.They shall continue blind among the blind.But thou, O word, so clear, so strong, so true,Thou sayest all which I for goal have taken.I give thee to the future! Thine secureWhen each at least unto himself shall waken.Comes it in sunshine? In the tempest’s thrill?I cannot tell – but it the earth shall see!I am an Anarchist! Wherefore I willNot rule, & also ruled I will not be!
