Communism Means Barbarism.

And The Poorest Twig On The Elm-tree Was Ridged Inch Deep With Pearl.

Our Seasons Have No Fixed Returns, Without Our Will They Come And Go; At Noon Our Sudden Summer Burns, Ere Sunset All Is Snow.

We Kind O' Thought Christ Went Agin War An' Pillage.

Before Man Made Us Citizens, Great Nature Made Us Men.

And Blessed Are The Horny Hands Of Toil.