Many are the songs yet to be sung
And many the wells yet to be dug
One called Triumph resounds with joy
Ascending verses of bright employ
One called Sorrow with trenches deep
Dredges fear, what flow it weeps!
One named Plenty makes complacent the mind
While its brother Famine gives strength to strive
With will to choose the well caved in
Take courage enough to begin again
Dig the well, though it may run dry
Dig the well, amid waters high
Dig the well, to ascend your hope
Dig the well, in descension’s mote
With hand to trowel and feet to earth
Regret not your working’s worth
Shovel to ground and strength to bear
Speak into the wells and greatly dare
And despite all failure's despondency
Make clear the way to a well called free
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