The Great War

from More Songs By the Fighting Men, an electronic edition

Ad Profunda

WE have built high walls of pomp and pride

And wealth, around our inmost Being,

And deep, unseen, within there hide

Visions too bright for our dull seeing.

We yearning stand, and cannot pass

To where the Soul with these is One;

Our utterance is as the grass

Withering beneath the noonday sun.

The Waters of Infinity

Break on the spirit's lonely shore:

Lo! the wall crumbles, and we see

All we have hoped and striven for.

O, then all time is lost in Time,

The Soul has burst its prison-bars:

We walk with feet still deep in slime.

But with our heads above the stars.