The turning earth will raise its wand
And bring the seasons to their frutiful end
and little men and trains will crasl
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 pa**
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 pa**
It will come to pa**
Though men and minds and times will change
still pinioned they by fers of growinkg old
though scalpeled hands will plumb the deepest corners
none will find the soul
yet bearded men in sandwich boards will tell the sinfuls treets
"He's Come At Last", and love will grow, it will come to pa**