It is not over yet-the fight <br />Where those immortal dreamers failed. <br />They stormed the citadels of night, <br />And the night praised them-and prevailed. <br />So long ago the cause was lost <br />We scarce distinguish friend from foe; <br />But-if the dead can help it most- <br />The armies of the dead will grow. <br /> <br />The world has all our banners now, <br />And filched our watchwords for its own. <br />The world has crowned the ' rebel's ' brow <br />And millions crowd his lordly throne. <br />The masks have altered. Names are names. <br />They praise the 'truth' that is not true. <br />The ' rebel' that the world acclaims <br />Is not the rebel Shelley knew. <br /> <br />We may not build that Commonweal, <br />We may not reach the goal we set; <br />But there's a flag they dare not steal. <br />Forward! It is not over yet. <br />We shall be dust and under dust, <br />Before we end that ancient wrong; <br />But there's a sword that cannot rust, <br />And where's the death can touch a song? <br /> <br />So, when our bodies rot in earth, <br />The singing souls that once were ours, <br />Weaponed with light and helmed with mirth, <br />Shall front the kingdoms and the powers. <br />The ancient lie is on its throne, <br />And half the living still forget; <br />But, since the dead are all our own, <br />Courage, it is not over yet.<br /><br />Alfred Noyes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lost-battle/
