|
What relief! To be among men used |
|
To deeper wonders than the waves |
|
Men too proud to mend their ways |
|
What relief! To be among men |
|
Who swore never to stumble |
|
Never to tire, never to waste their |
|
Time by preaching to the choir |
|
But to take this longing |
|
Onto the streets |
|
For that is where dissent |
|
And disloyalty shall meet |
|
For that is where beauty |
|
And necessity shall meet |
|
Now, I have many friends |
|
Like you can't count the wheat |
|
And many are those who shared their |
|
Bread along the river aeeth |
|
And we all shared shelter |
|
Danger and wine too |
|
To join in this |
|
Bloodless birth of hope |
|
For we find neither dignity |
|
Nor comfort in rest like you |
|
And as they threw open |
|
Their orchards |
|
I found you there |
|
Between two rows of tenderness |
|
And two rows of despair |
|
And as they threw open |
|
Their orchards |
|
I found you there |
|
Between two rows of tenderness |
|
And two rows of despair |
|
And now I owe you all |
|
And now I owe you all |
|
Now we are left |
|
Picking up the pieces |
|
Of ideals smothered in pomp |
|
And told to cherish |
|
Whatever lowers and weeps |
|
And blame it on the one |
|
Who rises and leaps |
|
And yet, we shall remain |
|
Among the few |
|
Leaderless men |
|
The only ones to refuse |
|
Th become leaders of men |
|
Who are still strangers |
|
To gloating |
|
Who are still strangers |
|
To loathing |
|
And as they threw open |
|
Their orchards |
|
I found you there |
|
Between two rows of tenderness |
|
And two rows of despair |
|
And as they threw open |
|
Their orchards |
|
I found you there |
|
Between two rows of tenderness |
|
And two rows of despair |
|
And now I owe you all |
|
And now I owe you all |
