Your life is sad in the dust and the sun,
You dream and gaze at the brazen sky;
Let the gods be many, or God be none,
One Fate stands ever, that all shall die.

Let sorrow or sleep in the shadow lurk,
We are yet in the range of the broad sun rays;
And the night fast cometh when none shall work,
So strive and be glad in the long light days.

‘Fast and Pray,’ said the sages of Ind;
We know not what penance and prayer may give,
For visions are fading, and words are wind;
The Faith we bring you is Labour and Live.

Let the hard earth soften, and toil bring ease,
Let the king be just and the laws be strong;
Ye shall flourish and spread like the sheltered trees,
And the storms shall end, and the ancient wrong.

Some arms deep rusted, an old world rhyme,
A broken idol, a ruined fane,
May linger as waifs of the wild foretime,
When the gods were cruel and men were slain.

The lightning that shivers, the storms that sweep,
The wide full flood, and the drowning waves,
Still do ye fear them, and worship and weep?
They are still your gods? They shall be your slaves.

Ye have courted them vainly with passion and prayer;
Their gifts are but silence and infinite rest;
If the heavens are empty the earth may be fair,
There is one life only, so labour is best.

As the rivers wander and currents change
Till the quickening stream is a barren bed,
So the thoughts of men like the waters range
From ways forgotten and worships dead.

Let the temples moulder in gathering sand,
Let the stones lie strewn in the cedar grove;
Ye shall rule like gods in a glorious land;
Ye shall live by knowledge, and peace, and love.