Maceo dead! a thrill of sorrow Through our hearts in sadness ran When we felt in one sad hour That the world had lost a man.
He had clasped unto his bosom The sad fortunes of his land- Held the cause for which he perished With a firm, unfaltering hand.
On his lips the name of freedom Fainted with his latest breath.
Cuba Libre was his watchword Passing through the gates of death.
With the light of God around us, Why this agony and strife?
With the cross of Christ before us, Why this fearful waste of life?
Must the pathway unto freedom Ever mark a crimson line, And the eyes of wayward mortals Always close to light divine?
Must the hearts of fearless valor Fail 'mid crime and cruel wrong, When the world has read of heroes Brave and earnest, true and strong?
Men to stay the floods of sorrow Sweeping round each war-crushed heart;Men to say to strife and carnage- From our world henceforth depart.
God of peace and God of nations, Haste! oh, haste the glorious day.
When the reign of our Redeemer O'er the world shall have its sway.
When the swords now blood encrusted, Spears that reap the battle field, Shall be changed to higher service, Helping earth rich harvests yield.
Where the widow weeps in anguish, And the orphan bows his head, Grant that peace and joy and gladness May like holy angels tread.
Pity, oh, our God the sorrow Of thy world from thee astray, Lead us from the paths of madness Unto Christ the living way.
Year by year the world grows weary 'Neath its weight of sin and strife, Though the hands once pierced and bleeding Offer more abundant life.
May the choral song of angels Heard upon Judea's plain Sound throughout the earth the tidings Of that old and sweet refrain.
