From Mark Twain's "A Pen Warmed in Hell"

Battle Hymn of the Republic (Brought Down to Date 1900)

Mine eyes have seen the orgy of the launching of the sword;
He is searching out the hoardings where the stranger's wealth is stored;
He hath loosed his fateful lightnings, and with woe and death has scored;
His lust is marching on.

I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded him an altar in the Eastern dews and damps;
I have read his boomful mission by the dim and flaring lamps--
His night is marching on.

I have read his bandit gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with pretensions, so with you my wrath shall deal;
Let the faithless son of Freedom crush the patriot with his heel;
Lo, greed is marching on!"

We have legalized the strumpet and are guarding her retreat;
Greed is seeking out commercial souls befor his judgment seat;
O, be swift, ye clods, to answer him! be jubilant my feet!
Our god is marching on!

In a sorid slime harmonious, Greed was born in yonder ditch,
With a longing in his bosom--and for others' goods an itch--
As Christ died to make men holy, let men die to make us rich--
Our god is marching on. Mark Twain