White In The Moon The Long Road

Oh Who Is That Young Sinner With The Handcuffs On His Wrist? And What Has He Been After That They Groan And Shake Their Fists? And Wherefore Is He Wearing Such A Conscience-stricken Air? Oh They're Taking Him To Prison For The Colour Of His Hair.

Earth And High Heaven Are Fixed Of Old And Founded Strong.

Stars, I Have Seen Them Fall, But When They Drop And Die No Star Is Lost At All From All The Star-sown Sky. The Toil Of All That Be Helps Not The Primal Fault; It Rains Into The Sea And Still The Sea Is Salt.

All Knowledge Is Precious Whether Or Not It Serves The Slightest Human Use.

Strapped, Noosed, Nighing His Hour, He Stood And Counted Them And Cursed His Luck; And Then The Clock Collected In The Tower Its Strength, And Struck.