And Empty Heads Console With Empty Sound.

Religion Blushing, Veils Her Sacred Fires, And Unawares Morality Expires.

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.

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.

To Endeavor To Work Upon The Vulgar With Fine Sense Is Like Attempting To Hew Blocks With A Razor.

Heav'n From All Creatures Hides The Book Of Fate, All But The Page Prescribed, Their Present State: From Brutes What Men, From Men What Spirits Know: Or Who Could Suffer Being Here Below?