Upon the land of gold,
One looks back unto that oath,
With that face when one folds.
A vessel of brothers and sisters,
As seen below a swaying rope,
All the evil and good man musters,
Sometimes shortens the tightening hope.
Looking ahead to the sun instead,
Pushing farther along and ahead,
Frowning but can't help a smile,
For one can see there more than a mile.
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