“Oh, the gloom,
And the doom, doom, doom,
Of the low, slow times to come.

“Oh, the night,
And its last, sad light,
And the streets bleak, dark, and cold.

“Oh, the death
Of the brief, brief breath,
When there’s no strong song to sing.

“Oh, the slain,
And the wet bright stain,
When the full red blood runs free.”

But ah, the leap,
When these dooms sink deep,
And the high fast days fly back.

And ah, the life
Of the clang, clang clang!
When the fired men’s minds attack!

Then see! The light!—-
As the old gloom creaks—-
It’s a fair wide flare a-bloom!

And hear! The right!
As a glad man speaks,
“There’s no more room for doom!

“No room for doom,
No room for gloom,
But only underground.

“Pack off, you clods,
Go back to gods,
Way down there, underground.

“Now die, I said,
Be double dead,
You two of lost hopes’ aim.

“You doom, go down,
Go down, you gloom,
And claim your tomb of shame!”