Why Cannot I Crack The Whip Poem by Albert Price

The nation’s dream is built in our hearts,
Though its components our factories make.
Its majesty greater than the sum of its parts
Sounds the call at which our hope will awake.

Lift the iron gate bearing our sacred name,
For wagons are heaping in wares and trade.
The loud flick of the whip cracks its claim;
Cause it is time that brave tracks be laid.

Tomorrow is no one’s who’s ever been seen,
Not even the ones called the most brave.
But the best of minds must soon convene;
Their backs from the sharp whip to save.

We know our Creator has made us strong,
Our industry can’t stumble for its fame.
Our boundless spirit drives the throng,
And rebuilding our cities should be the aim.

Boundless strength our Master’s blessing,
For our corners are bolstered by His stone.
Held together by the Lord’s caressing,
Our building is the most solid throne.

So now with the sound of galloping horses,
The crack of the whip moves a hundred
Toward eastern markets seeking sources
For eager wishes and wants oft wondered.