A smile abroad is often a scowl at home.
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
Through the ages one increasing purpose runs.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.
For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal and of noble mind.