Mourn not the dead that in the cool earth lie Dust unto dust The calm, sweet earth that mothers all who die As all men must; Mourn not your captive comrades who must dwell Too strong to strive Within each steel-bound coffin of a cell, Buried alive; But rather mourn the apathetic throng The cowed and the meek Who see the world's great anguish and its wrong And dare not speak!

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