You are what you will to be;
Let failure find its false content
In chaste piety, money spent,
But the Spirit scorns it, and flies free.

It masters time, it conquers space;
It cows the boastful trickster, Chance,
And bids the tyrant Circumstance,
Uncrowned, to fill a servant’s place.

The human Will, force unseen,
The offspring of an immortal Soul,
Hews the way to any goal,
Though granite walls intervene.

Do not be impatient in delay,
But stop as one who understands;
When the Spirit rises and commands,
That God is ready to obey.