Thou holdest mine eyes awake: I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times.
I call to remembrance my song in the night
I commune with mine own heart: and my spirit made diligent search.
Psalm 77: 4-6
He sat on the hill where the old school had been
And wondered at all the sad tokens
The obstacles, failures, losses and then
Every dream he had had that was broken
He reached his hands toward the sky
In a questioning, wearied gesture
And gave up the ghost of his grasping pride
And tried his best to remember
The songs and the poems, the wonderful words
That his teachers had constantly spoken
The gospel of freedom, of power and love
The life in the clear and the open
Oh, where has it vanished, oh, how has it gone
The dream men have died to afford
And he looked to the ground where the school had once stood
And hoped once again in the Lord.