As mountain peaks that tower above the plain,
With solitude their only diadem;
Or oaks made strong in blinding storms and rain,
That ivy may the better cling to them;
As rivers flowing seaward never lag
In quest of goal, with swiftly rushing might;
Or eagles nesting on the mountain crag
Waiting, unweary, through the lonely night—
So the intrepid ones of earth, apart,
Unfriended, blaze our paths and write our creeds.

O God of Lonely Ones, fling wide your heart
And grant sufficiency to meet their needs!
Sustain—forgiving where they may have erred—
The Pioneers, who run not with the herd.