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2.

Rend hearts and rend not garments for our sins; Gird sackcloth not on body but on soul; Grovel in dust with faces toward the goal Nor won, nor neared: he only laughs who wins. Not neared the goal, the race too late begins; Or left undone, we have yet to do the whole; The sun is hurrying west and toward the pole Where darkness waits for earth with all her kins. Let us to-day, while it is called to-day, Set out, if utmost speed may yet avail-- The shadows lengthen and the light grows pale: For who through darkness and the shadow of death, Darkness that may be felt, shall find a way, Blind-eyed, deaf-eared, and choked with failing breath?