When to this world some madness seems to cling,
Old words of war, old hatreds violence bring,
Or to the world itself seems damage made
Now dam-held flow, now fear where children played.
Then ours is not to weakly weep and sigh.
The answer known from birth until we die;
That all that seems without is yet within,
That all the world’s our body, sky our skin.
And ours a power larger than the sun,
To speak our will, for by our will be done
All works of earth, of rock and wall and gate;
The world expressed. Our saying is our fate.
Thus speak from deep within of glorious day;
We make the unending world by what we say.