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De Profundis.

Why are Thy people crushed, O Lord?
  Why do Thy children moan?
Thou art omnipotent, O Lord,
  And they are Thine own, Thine own.
    Ever and ever the millions cry:
    "Father, we suffer, and know not why,
   Born to struggle, and then to die,
Why is the seed thus sown?"

Here on the earth to-day, O Lord,
  Millions are slaves of pain;
Sin and sorrow are here, O Lord,
  And hunger, and serfdom's chain.

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   Ever and ever the millions say:
   "Father, to Thee we kneel and pray,
   'Twas ever thus, as 'tis to-day,
When shall we reap the grain?"

Tyrants rule upon high, O Lord,
  And knaves possess the land;
Greedy robbers hold sway, O Lord;
  Why dost Thou stay Thine hand?
     Back on the shores that are far behind,
     Trance of reason and sleep of mind
     Dwarf Thy people; they still are blind.
  Father, they cannot stand.

We who are here on the heights, O Lord,
  Free in Thy fuller light,
Wonder why nations are plunged, O Lord,
  Down in oppression's night,
     Back in the lands where Wrong is rife,
     Back on the shores where war and strife
     Are ever making a Hell of life.
  Where is the reign of Right?

Souls are sighing for peace, O Lord;
  Hearts are lifted to Thee;

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Wails for mercy to Thee, O Lord,
 With many a plaint and plea,
    Out of the depths and darkness go:
    "Father, O Father, we nothing know;
    Open Thy children's eyes below,
 As yet they cannot see."