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|The Heritage to the Race of Kings|
This heritage to the race of kings|
Their children and their children’s seed
Have wrought their prophecies in deed
Of terrible and splendid things.
The hands that fought, the hearts that broke|
In old immortal tragedies,
These have not failed beneath the skies,
Their children’s heads refuse the yoke.
And still their hands shall guard the sod|
That holds their father’s funeral urn,
Still shall their hearts volcanic burn
With anger of the sons of God.
No alien sword shall earn as wage|
The entail of their blood and tears,
No shameful price for peaceful years
Shall ever part this heritage.
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Lane Core Jr. (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Created March 19, 2001; not revised.