Ah, Love, Let Us Be True To

The Working-class Is Now Issuing From Its Hiding-place To Assert An Englishman's Heaven-born Privilege Of Doing As He Likes, And Is Beginning To Perplex Us By Marching Where It Likes, Meeting Where It Likes, Bawling What It Likes, Breaking What It Likes.

Be Neither Saint Nor Sophist-led, But Be A Man.

Culture Looks Beyond Machinery, Culture Hates Hatred; Culture Has One Great Passion--the Passion For Sweetness And Light. It Has One Even Yet Greater, The Passion For Making Them All Prevail. It Is Not Satisfied Till We All Come To A Perfect Man; It Knows That The Sweetness And Light Of The Few Must Be Imperfect Until The Raw And Unkindly Masses Of Humanity Are Touched With Sweetness And Light.

Below The Surface Stream, Shallow And Light, Of What We Say And Feel Below The Stream, As Light, Of What We Think We Feel, There Flows With Noiseless Current, Strong, Obscure And Deep, The Central Stream Of What We Feel Indeed.

And Long We Try In Vain To Speak And Act Our Hidden Self, And What We Say And Do Is Eloquent, Is Well -- But 'tis Not True!