
Awake again in Asia, Lord of Peace
Awake and preach, for her far swordsmen rise
And would they sheathe the sword before you, friend,
Or scorn your way, while looking in your eyes

Good comrade and philosopher and prince
Thoughtful and thoroughbred and strong and kind
Dare they to move against your pride benign
Lord of the Law, high chieftain of the mind

But what can Europe say, when in your name
The throats are cut, the lotus-ponds turn red
And what can Europe say, when with a laugh
Old Asia heaps her hecatombs of dead
Vachel Lindsay
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