All Things Must Change To Something New,

All Things Must Change To Something New, To Something Strange.

All Was Silent As Before - All Silent Save The Dripping Rain.

Thus At The Flaming Forge Of Life Our Fortunes Must Be Wrought; Thus On Its Sounding Anvil Shaped Each Burning Deed And Thought!

O Weary Hearts! O Slumbering Eyes! O Drooping Souls, Whose Destinies Are Fraught With Fear And Pain, Ye Shall Be Loved Again.

In This World A Man Must Either Be Anvil Or Hammer.