The world is in the melting pot,
What was is passing away;
And what will remain, when it cools again,
No man may safely say.
But of this we may be certain —
The Old Things have gone for aye;
The wood, and the hay, and the stubble, they
Have passed in the heat of the fray.
And what be the things that are left us?
"Gold and silver and precious stones"?
Or only a world into chaos hurled,
And cluttered with brave men's bones?
Have we added aught to the fuel
Of these fires of the wrath of God?
Have we had no part in the warping of heart
That has drenched the earth with blood?
But, whatever our sins, the purging
Has cleansed us and purified;
With heart and with brain we must build again
Things of proof that shall abide.
Oh, see that ye build securely
When the time for building comes —
With square-hewn blocks of Righteousness,
And corner stones of Faithfulness,
And girders strong of Righted Wrong,
And the blood of our Martyrdoms.
And — build on the One Foundation,
That shall make the building sure —
The Rock that was laid ere the world was made,
Build on Him, and ye build secure!