Each eve earth falleth down the dark,
As though its hope were oer;
Yet lurks the sun when day is done
Behind to-morrows door.
Grey grows the dawn while men-folk sleep,
Unseen spreads on the light,
Till the thrush sings to the coloured things,
And earth forgets the night.
No otherwise wends on our Hope:
Een as a tale thats told
Are fair lives lost, and all the cost
Of wise and true and bold.
Weve toiled and failed; we spake the word;
None hearkened; dumb we lie;
Our Hope is dead, the seed we spread
Fell oer the earth to die.
Whats this? For joy our hearts stand still,
And life is loved and dear,
The lost and found the Cause hath crowned,
The Day of Days is here.
