Lyrics: Bouck White.
Tune: “Ben Bolt.”
O, crusaders are we, in the war of the Lord,
A crusade that is holy and just.
And the truth is our shield, and the ballot our sword;
Every foeman shall fall in the dust.
Volunteers are enlisting from every land,
For no national lines do we know,
And the banner that floats o’er our valorous band,
Shall wave higher, as onward we go.
Palestine was the goal of the crusades of old;
Holy tomb they would wrest from the foe;
’Gainst the Saracen foul they were stalwart and bold,
And they dealt him full doughty a blow.
Once again are the nations astir, far and wide;
Indignation as fire is awake.
For ungodly possessors advance like a tide:
Of earth’s holiest treasures partake.
So we rise in our might, in a crusade today;
And the cross, as of yore, is our sign.
Desecrators of men shall not stand in our way;
Every worker, we hold, is divine.
Vile oppression of women and children must cease;
Wealth’s producers, that wealth shall divide.
With the ballot, we fight, bloodless weapon of peace;
For the toilers are now crucified.