Bought With A Price Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington

Ay, a price! What price? Ye saved ones of these later ages,
Ye few who have learnt to be free, and have true things to tell?
The price of the past generations of blind men and sages
Who lived for you, died for you, suffered, and went down to hell


And never came back! Savage sinners, the conquered, despiséd;
Crude spokesmen of chaos they sprang from, all lusty with dewtime;
Then, singly, messiahs bloodsweating for order and beauty;
In their day all failures; all martyrs for us of the new time.


Ay, bought with a price! my sisters and brothers, this moment
We live, and know how, and know why, and have nothing to fear;
We are debtors, dear comrades! Oh, think of the Calvaries suffered;
Hands round: true to trust: 'Millenium' is bound to appear.


'Tis our generation must fight the last fight against Warfare,
Must hurl the god Mammon in depths of oblivion's sea,
Unmask and drive from us all tyrannous Powers of Darkness
And make the sweet planet a Home of Humanity free.