Out of the flesh, out of the minds and hearts
Of thousand upon thousand common men,
Cranks, martyrs, starry-eyed enthusiasts,
Slow-spoken neighbors, hard to push around,
Women whose hands were gentle with their kids
And men with a cold passion for mere justice.
We made this thing, this dream.
This land unsatisfied by little ways,
Open to every man who brought good will,
This peaceless vision, groping for the stars,
Not as a huge devouring machine
Rolling and clanking with remorseless force
Over submitted bodies and the dead
But as live earth where anything could grow,
Your crankiness, my notions and his dream,
Grow and be looked at, grow and live or die,
But get their chance of growing and the sun.
We made it and we make it and it's ours.
We shall maintain it. It shall be sustained.
The full text of this truly epic poem, originally conceived and performed as a 4th of July radio program, can be found here (click each page for a legible enlargement). It's a gripping ride, at once both a celebration and a cautionary tale, and a grave warning about the perhaps timeless dangers that democracy and liberty face. In parts it eerily echoes many of the very same ideological slings and arrows that the free society still endures from its critics today, more than sixty years later. Though far grander in scope, its subject matter and narrative approach remind me in no small part of Rush's Orwellian 1976 progressive-rock-opera "2112" (whose lyrics, encouragingly enough, can be found at at least one site in Russia!) — so much so that I can't help but wonder whether Neil Peart had read and was influenced by Benét's work.
I will have my country's flag out for the day, with no sentiment of ill will or exclusion attached, but as an expression of my heartfelt love and gratitude for the free society that has granted me my own life to live in my own way ... my own chance of growing and the sun. Mine is a hopeful wish, for existing and emerging free societies everywhere, and for those who seek their own place to grow and thrive.