The turning earth will raise its wand

And bring the seasons to their fruitful end

And little men and trains will crawl

And snake their way around the timeless bend And rivers too, will course their way

To find the hungry mother sea at last

And love will grow, it will come to pass The sun will blaze its scorching path

Across the sky a million times or more

And men with charts will scan the skies

In quest of life on some forgotten shore And in the quiet womb

The sleeping seed will stretch its arms and grow at last

And love will grow, it will come to pass

It will come to pass Though men and minds and times will change

Still pinioned, they, by fears of growing old

Though scalpeled hands will plumb the deepest corners

None will find the soul Yet bearded men in sandwich boards

Will tell the sinful streets, he's come at last

And love will grow, it will come to pass