Let only that little be left of my will whereby I may feel thee
on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee
my love every moment.
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee.
Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound
with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life--and
that is the fetter of thy love.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought
and action--
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
This is my prayer to thee, my lord--strike, strike at the root of
penury in my heart.
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