But when the war-worn, knowing all
Of glory, horror and hate,
Abandons all for the heart's sure call
And the need of a stricken mate.
Better than all the man-made creeds
Begotten in hate's foul fog,
Furthered by dark and bloody deeds
In the name of the under-dog;
Better than 'rights' conceived in rage,
With policy, plot and plan,
Earth's rich, rejected heritage,
The love of man for man.
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