If your touch is on Truth’s garment’s hem,
There is more of you than a world of them.
’Tis not alone in the Orient region
That a certain hero’s name is Legion.
Nor was it only for once to be
That the whole herd together ran down to the sea.
Your zenith for no man else is true:
Your beam from the sun comes alone to you.
And the thought the great God gave your brain
Is your own for the world, or the world’s in vain.