It suits today the meek and base,
Whose minds are fixed on pelf and place;
To cringe beneath the rich man's frown,
And haul that sacred emblem down.
With heads uncovered, swear we all,
To bear it onward till we fall;
Come dungeous dark, or gallows grim,
This song shall be our parting hymn
THE INTERNATIONALE
By Eugene Pottier
(Translated by Charles H. Kerr.)
Arise, ye prisoners of starvation!
Arise, ye wretched of the earth,
For justice thunders condemnation,
A better world's in birth.
No more tradition's chains shall bind us,
Arise, ye slaves; no more in thrall!
The earth shall rise on new foundations,
We have been naught, we shall be all.
REFRAIN
'Tis the final conflict,
Let each stand in his place,
The Industrial Union
Shall be the human race.
We want no condescending saviors.
To rule us from a judgment hall;
We workers ask not for their favors;
Let us consult for all.
To make the thief disgorge his booty
To free the spirit from its cell,
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