The Birth Land.

I walk this heathen path,

With naught but wind by my side,

And perchance you find me going,

Keep aside, keep aside.

For I take no bard on this journey,

This road is not to be sung about,

But a trail to be failed and found,

By those with the heart to hold the stars.

And so you shall see at the level ground,

Where the heaven and hell are smote down,

With the arms as hard as anvils, 

Of souls sought out to save,

Know this free valley, O witness,

This is the kingdom of the brave.