What if the world's corruption nears,
The consequence they dare not name?
We shall but realize our fears
And having tasted them go on
Neither from hope of grace nor fame
Delivered from remorse and shame
And do the things left to be done
For no sake other than their own
The quarry shall be stalked and won
The bed invaded, and the game
Played till the roof comes tumbling down
And win or lose are all the same
Action at such pitch shall flame
Only beneath a final sun