Ten Thousand Times I've Done My Best

Oh Who Is That Young Sinner With The Handcuffs On His Wrist? And What Has He Been After That They Groan And Shake Their Fists? And Wherefore Is He Wearing Such A Conscience-stricken Air? Oh They're Taking Him To Prison For The Colour Of His Hair.

Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black, And Lights Are Guttering Low: Square Your Shoulders, Lift Your Pack And Leave Your Friends And Go.

And How Am I To Face The Odds Of Man's Bedevilment And God's? I, A Stranger And Afraid In A World I Never Made.

Now, Of My Threescore Years And Ten, Twenty Will Not Come Again.

White In The Moon The Long Road Lies, The Moon Stands Blank Above; White In The Moon The Long Road Lies That Leads Me From My Love. Still Hangs The Hedge Without A Gust, Still, Still The Shadows Stay: My Feet Upon The Moonlit Dust Pursue The Ceaseless Way. The World Is Round, So Travellers Tell, And Straight Through Reach The Track, Trudge On, Trudge On, 'twill All Be Well, The Way Will Guide One Back. But Ere The Circle Homeward Hies Far, Far Must It Remove: White In The Moon The Long Road Lies That Leads Me From My Love.