The way we flitter through our span,
And break the laws of loveliness,
Does show an open Hell for man
On earth, with all his naughtiness.
The coming and the going out,
Are just the same, in sinfulness;
Of all our ways, there is no doubt,
For they do show our wretchedness.
We've made a back door right to Hell,
And we do slip ourselves within:
From Adam down, the records tell
That man is full of mortal sin.
To close completely Hell's back door,
We have to turn our faces round,
And this should be for rich and poor,
If man's best virtues must be found.
We'll have to change the Hero's mark,
And set examples good, in deed:
No Alexander's deeds, most dark,
Nor Caesar's crimes should be our creed;
Napoleons should be tabooed,
And cruel Mussolini's, too:
The deeds of Jesus should be wooed,
To make of life a course more true.
To glorify the beast in man,
And set it up in marble, tall,
Is way to crucify each one,
Who under tyrants often fall.
When we do cease to honour sin,
And praise but that of Christian love,
We'll find a world worth living in,
As pattern of the realm above.
Yes, let us close our Hell's back door,
And burn the reptiles of the race,
Not flesh, but records praised before,
But now to man a foul disgrace.
In this your Mussolini's doom,
No one will try to be as he;
But seek to rest in peace, in tomb
That marks the love of liberty.