Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

Bright and fierce and fickle is the South,/ And dark and true and tender is the North.

And out of darkness came the hands that reach thro' nature, moulding men.

The shell must break before the bird can fly.

And so the Word had breath, and wrought/ With human hands the creed of creeds/ In loveliness of perfect deeds,/ More strong than all poetic thought.