For the hope that none seeketh is coming to light.
Like the seed of mid-winter, unheeded, unperished,
Like the autumn-sown wheat 'neath the snow lying green,
Like the love that overtook us, unawares and uncherished,
Like the babe 'neath thy girdle that groweth unseen;
So the hope of the people now buddeth and groweth,
Rest fadeth before it, and blindness and fear;
It biddeth us learn all the wisdom it knoweth;
It hath found us and held us, and biddeth us hear:
For it beareth the message: "Rise up on the morrow