Have all the hopes of ages come to naught? Is life no more with noble meaning fraught?

O what is life, if we must hold it thus as wind-blown sparks hold momentary fire?

Let Justice, blind and halt and maimed, chastise the rebel spirit surging in my veins, let the Law deal me penalties and pains And make me hideous in my neighbours' eyes.

Let Justice, blind and halt and maimed, chastise the rebel spirit surging in my veins, let the Law deal me penalties and pains And make me hideous in my neighbours' eyes.

Alone! Alone! No beacon, far or near! No chart, no compass, and no anchor stay!

You are naught but a warner.