We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
A life of nothing's nothing worth, From that first nothing ere his birth, To that last nothing under earth.
Too much wit makes the world rotten.
Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
Strong Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove.