When hearts shall beat with common throb,
Attuned the whole world o’er,
And every hand that turns the knob
Shall find the open door.
We’ve tortured long the silent earth
To wrest the fiend of gold.
Fierce yellow fever from our birth
Inflames the young and old.
Now let us dig the richest veins
Of treasure under suns,
Our golden hearts that fear enchains
Neath hatred’s crushing tons.
And rarer far than all the pelf
The goblin Greed can hold
The depths that hide the better self,
More dear than worlds of gold.
If we would win the world to peace
The power that in us delves,
Faith, like the Argonauts’ of Greece,
Must conquer first ourselves.
Great hearts can make this mortal plan
A temple to endure;
Our eyes shall see the God in man
Because our hearts are pure.


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