Makes the music of our pleasure
Ringing through these cloisters old.
Shall we not fight as they have fought,
And work as they with tireless brain have wrought?
O, follow still the fleet275
Faint glint of Truth where’er it leads your feet;
Gather in with reverent toil
The sheaves of Knowledge wheresoever scattered
O’er whatsoe’er soil;
And dare the loneliest peak with tempest shattered280