Hey, look yonder, tell me what's that you see. Marching to the fields of Concord?. Looks like Handsome Johnny with a musket in his hand. Marching to the Concord war, hey, marching to the Concord war.
In the dawning, wakening hour. He'll lift his head and brush his eyes with gentle strokes. That will only blindly mislead him. Into the first day of creation which he only sees in limitation.