Oh, what if Thou, that for a cup of water promisest
The illimitable sea,
Thou, Lord, dost also thirst?
Hast Thou not said, our blood shall quench Thee best
And first
⁠Of any drink there be?

If then there be such virtue in it, Lord,
Ah, let us prove it now!
And, save by seeing it at Thy footstool poured,
⁠How, Lord—oh, how?

If it indeed be precious and like gold,
As Thou hast taught,
Why hoard it? There's no wealth in gems unsold,
⁠Nor joy in gems unbought.

Our sins are great, we know it; and we know
We must redeem our guilt;
Even so.

​But tears are difficult for a man to shed,
And here is our blood poured out for France instead,
⁠To do with as Thou wilt!

Take it, O Lord! And make it Thine indeed,
Void of all lien and fee.
Nought else we ask of Thee;
But if Thou needst our Love as we Thy Justice need,
⁠Great must Thine hunger be!