Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam, can you lose heart?
We’ve got your propositions right
On down to the very last part:
Our theory yet remains so ever pristine;
And nary a man who can think
Shall its sure principles demean.
O Sam, Uncle Sam, your test is of Will:
Whence, pray tell, shall it come?
Once you were more than mere city on hill.
Once you taught men grand principles true,
And brought even History to its end—
Such deeds you once did, can you no longer do?
Sam, Uncle Sam, in the balance you stand.
And beg we, arise! Arise for this:
The foe is out there in the sand.
Vindicate theory, by theory make free:
And set the seal of Solomon
With demos and Crescent, magnificently.
“You call my name Uncle, council of mine;
But of affection you have little:
For cliché, for dry treatise you pine.
Men will die for many things dear,
Even whole nations sometimes;
But no mere theory can move them, I fear.
“Yes, old Uncle Sam does theory contemn
When fire and slaughter roar red.
Steal yourself, then, and say to my men:
‘Remember the peril your fathers faced bold,
And in my own name proudly defied.’
Tell them of home: strength will return tenfold.
“Men call me Uncle, sir; remind them of home—
Where uncles and urchin cousins
In pastures long loved and long known
Are ne’er forgotten, nor forsaken, but saved.
For this men will die; for this they will give—
And o’er the land of the free, banner yet may wave.”