In shadowed halls where once the Muses sang
Of truth and virtue, now the serpent’s fang
Doth pierce the tender minds of youth betrayed,
By cloaked professors in their gowns arrayed.
They preach the lie that God is dead and gone,
That flesh is all, and Heaven but a dawn
Of foolish fable; they exalt the base,
The lust of self, the pride of every race,
The twisted creed that mocks the sacred law
And calls the foulest vice a righteous cause.

Thus universities, those once-bright fanes,
Are turned to temples of demonic chains,
Where youth, once pure as lilies in the field,
Are taught to scorn the harvest God would yield.

Yet rise, O righteous! Lift the ancient sword
Of truth undimmed, the timeless, living Word!
Be not as reeds that bend before the gale,
Nor silent watchmen sleeping at the pale.
The hour demands bold hearts and steadfast feet—
Go forth as lions where the dragons meet!
Storm the groves of Academe with light,
With courage kindled by the Spirit’s might.
Let every father, mother, saint, and sage
Confront the lie that poisons youth’s young age.

Stand in the classrooms, stand in council halls,
Proclaim the Cross that breaks the strongest walls.
Write, speak, and pray with voices like the thunder;
Expose the darkness, rend its veils asunder.
Teach truth at home where universities fail,
Raise sons and daughters armored in the mail
Of righteousness. Let not one soul be lost
To intellectual atrocities’ cost.
Though scorn and cancel may assail your name,
The crown of life awaits the overcoming flame.

Ye scholars of the King, awake and rise!
The battle is not yours, but His who dies
And rose again. Go forth with holy fire,
To rescue minds and set the captives higher.
No compromise with Babel’s gilded tongue—
The righteous must be bold, the righteous strong.
For when the Savior comes in clouds of glory,
He shall not ask if ye were safe and sorry,
But whether ye contended for the faith,
Defended lambs against the wolves of death.

O universities, once Athens’ heirs,
Now fallen towers of unrighteous cares,
Thy day of pomp shall end in smoke and shame;
The Judge shall call each tempter by his name.
Repent, ye teachers! Ere the trumpet sound,
Cast down your idols, seek the holy ground.

But ye, beloved, take up the standard high—
A bold and courageous stand beneath the sky!
The youth may yet be freed by grace divine;
The faithful warriors shall in triumph shine.

Thus ends the call in rhyme of ancient mode:
Corruption’s wage is paid before God’s throne—
Yet victory waits for those who dare to fight
With truth and courage in the Savior’s light.