There is so mething deeply yearning
In the soul’s most inner reach,
And, at first, you hear it whisper
Like the waves upon the beach.

It sings along the treetops
As it rides upon the wind
Like the sobbing and the sighing
Of a hidden violin.

Yes, the voice begins so softly,
But it slowly seems to grow.
It rises to a rumble
Like an avalanche of snow.

It brings the sound of marching
With a throb of jungle drums.
You can feel the pounding rhythm
Ever rising as it comes!

Then it surges high in fury–
First a murmur, then a roar!
It has driven men to madness;
It has driven men to war!

When the people lose dominion
Over life and liberty,
Comes a cry for revolution,
Comes a clamor to be free!

So, you tyrants and usurpers
Heed the anger of the brave,
For, once more the cry has risen:
«Either freedom or the grave!»

Forfatter: Byron T. Weeks, MD