"Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin"

Behold, we have gathered together our battleships, near and afar;
Their decks they are cleared for action, their guns they are primed for
war.
From the East to the West there is hurry; in the North and the South a
peal
Of hammers in fort and ship-yard, and the clamor and clang of steel;
And the rush and roar of engines, and clanking of derrick and crane,--
Thou art weighed in the scales and found wanting, the balance of God,
O Spain!

Behold, I have stood on the mountains, and this was writ in the sky:
"She is weighed in the scales and found wanting, the balance God holds on
high!"
The balance He once weighed Babylon, the Mother of Harlots, in:
One scale holds thy pride and power and empire, begotten of sin,
Heavy with woe and torture, the crimes of a thousand years,
Mortared and welded together with fire and blood and tears;
In the other, for justice and mercy, a blade with never a stain,
Is laid the Sword of Liberty, and the balance dips, O Spain!

Summon thy vessels together! great is thy need for these!
Cristobal Colon, Vizcaya, Oquendo, Marie Therese.
Let them be strong and many, for a vision I had by night,
That the ancient wrongs thou hast done the world came howling to the
fight;
From the New World shores they gathered, Inca and Aztec, slain,
To the Cuban shot but yesterday, and our own dead seamen, Spain!

Summon thy ships together, gather a mighty fleet!
For a strong young nation is arming that never hath known defeat.
Summon thy ships together, there on thy blood-stained sands!
For a shadowy army gathers with manacled feet and hands,
A shadowy host of sorrows and of shames, too black to tell,
That reach with their horrible wounds for thee to drag thee down to hell;
Myriad phantoms and spectres, thou warrest against in vain!
Thou art weighed in the scales and found wanting, the balance of God,
O Spain!