ho flatters you, my favored nation,
Flatters in vain.
When dreams are ruined
No flag or tinkling tongue can please the wound
Nor ease a people’s pain.
Who boasts of you, my valiant nation,
Boasts blood and wrath.
While men die young
Faith falters, and ideals, once proudly sung,
In war’s bleak aftermath.
Who lives for you, my lovely nation,
Hopes, and must wait;
Though your vain errors
Heap history with steep and terrible terrors,
We trust your final fate.
