And curdles motion and with thrilling spell

Fixes the falling ripple. ‘Peace and quell,’

He said, ‘the action not maturÈd well.

What scorn to build with labour, round on round,

And lay the costly marbles, when ’tis found

The whole design at last inapt, unsound!

Beware the bitter moment when awake

We view the mischief that our visions make?—

The good things broken in a mad mistake.

But rather use the thought that is divine;

And know that every moment of design

Will save an hour of action, point for line.

And leave to others loss or victory;

And like the stars of heaven seek to be

The wise man’s compass but beyond the sea.’

Then He upon the Right. His words came forth

Like the full Southern blowing to the north.

‘The time is come,’ he said, ‘to try thy worth.

For when Thought’s wasted candles wane and wink,

And meditations like the planets sink,

The sun of Action rushes from the brink.

Stand not for ever in the towers of Thought

To watch the watery dawning waste to nought

The distant stars deluding darkness brought.

Not timorous weak persuasion, but the brand

Of Action—not discussion, but command?—

Can rouse the ranks of God and storm the land,

Where men who know the day still doze again;

Not walls of dust can dam th’ outrageous main,

Nor mitigation seize the world and reign.

Fear not. Unsheath the naked falchion. Try

The end. For in the end, who dares deny,

The utter truth shall slay the utter lie.’

Bangalore, 1890-3.