fearful and waking is no normal state
but leaden hours induce no better heat
than mental light and thoughts of long defeat
in bitter summer we're past the first gate
deep into the dark country bearing freight
of so much history still incomplete
all of it human both truth and deceit
all to requirement but none of it fate
so measure that we find the true belief
is what we know and give to all our folk
upon their waking to the morning chime
of bells that have not known a moment's grief
but ring the ending of inhuman yoke
and bid us all achieve a better time
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