There Never Was Any Party, Faction, Sect,

Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black, And Lights Are Fluttering Low: Square Your Shoulders, Lift Your Pack And Leave Your Friends And Go. O Never Fear, Lads, Naught's To Dread, Look Not To Left Nor Right: In All The Endless Road You Tread There's Nothing But The Night.

The Enormous Faith Of Many Made For One.

In Pride, In Reas'ning Pride, Our Error Lies; All Quit Their Sphere And Rush Into The Skies. Pride Still Is Aiming At The Bless'd Abodes, Men Would Be Angels, Angels Would Be Gods.

For He Lives Twice Who Can At Once Employ, The Present Well, And E'en The Past Enjoy.

Heav'n First Taught Letters For Some Wretch's Aid, Some Banish'd Lover, Or Some Captive Maid.