Standing, With Reluctant Feet, Where The Brook

Thus At The Flaming Forge Of Life Our Fortunes Must Be Wrought; Thus On Its Sounding Anvil Shaped Each Burning Deed And Thought!

I Am Weary Of Your Quarrels, Weary Of Your Wars And Bloodshed, Weary Of Your Prayers For Vengeance, Of Your Wranglings And Dissensions

Such Was The Wreck Of The Hesperus, In The Midnight And The Snow! Christ Save Us All From A Death Like This, On The Reef Of Norman's Woe!

None But Yourself Who Are Your Greatest Foe.

Don't Cross The Bridge Til You Come To It.