The poem
We have no aspiration vain For paradise Utopian, And here in our sun-happy Spain, Though man exploit his fellow man, To high constraint we humbly yield, And turn from politics to toil, Content to till a kindly field And bring forth bounty from the soil.
They tell us wars will never cease; They sy the world is out of joint. How well we Know! But peace is peace Even imposed at pistol point. And we have learnt our lesson well, By many a death, by many a tear; So let us live a feudal spell, - The cost of freedom is too dear.
Let us be the cattle kind, Praying the goad be not a sword; In servitude obeying blind The tyrant ruling of our Lord. His army can be swift to slay, His Church teach us humility . . . But never never will we pay Again blood-price for Liberty.