Now is a time when my dreaming is thrust aside,

When the youth as a man must act,

And the trumpets are blown.

All searching of self must be done,

And the sword that is found

Be gripped in the hand and swung,

Whirling a glitter of steel on the foe.

No more the dreaming, the dreaming of battle.

War is at hand, is here.

It shouts in the blaze of the morning

To meet it with might.

Suddenly life is around me fierce and loud.

Shocked from the deep of my dreaming

I start, and arise.

Splendid and terrible, shining

It comes, and I meet it

Alone, and on foot in the dust,

With sword of myself and my searching,