Hast thou, midst life's empty noises,
Heard the solemn steps of time,
And the low, mysterious voices
Of another clime?
Early hath life's mighty question
Thrilled within thy heart of youth
With a deep and strong beseeching —
What, and where, is Truth?

Not to ease and aimless quiet
Doth the inward answer tend,
But to works of love and duty
As our being's end;
Not to idle dreams and trances,
Folded hands and solemn tone,
But to faith, in daily striving
And performance shown;

Earnest toil and strong endeavor
Of a spirit which, within,
Wrestles with familiar evil
And besetting sin;
And, without, with tireless vigor,
Steady heart and weapon strong,
In the power of Truth assaileth
Every form of wrong.