There is some hour—like a cast off load—

When our proud had been fully tamed.

The learning hour—on each life-long road—

Is predestined and great.

The time, in which—our arms just had been thrown

Down to the feet of shown by His hand—

The solder’s purple to the gray-fur gown

We’re changing on the seashore sand.

O, this great hour—like some loud trumpet,

Rising us up from free-will of a date!

O, this great hour, when like some ear, ripened,

We’re low-bending to our weight.

The ear has risen, and the hour—been crowned,

And now the ear is thirsty for the mill.

O, Law! O, Law! Yet in a womb of ground

My yoke by my own will.

The learning hour! But we see and know

Another light,—another bright sunrise.

Be ever blessed, now rising him below,

High time when lone will be each of us!