rowing home

the changes all seem so tiny although the work has been long
too much of the dark of the night has been taken up with thought
we've made once again that distinction between the is and the ought
but no one thinks that any of it is worth a simple little song
we've got the clearest terms to use they are only right and wrong
the way we've come with difficulties still is dangerously fraught
but we've moved successfully onward nothing we do is for naught
those things that do not defeat us will make us hearty and strong
now shaping the words of the sonnet we are given a final choice
to sing all of the tale of the journey whether we like it or not
or to define in a minute all the large steps of the race
we have to speak out very loudly given our limited voice
nothing we do will allow us all of the road to retrace
we have alas only to go on the last of the gifts we have got