The lonely sunsets flare forlorn Down valleys dreadly desolate; The lordly mountains soar in scorn As still as death, as stern as fate. The lonely sunsets flame and die; The giant valleys gulp the night; The monster mountains scrape the sky, Where eager stars are diamond-bright. So gaunt against the gibbous moon, Piercing the silence velvet-piled, A lone wolf howls his ancient rune — The fell arch-spirit of the Wild. O outcast land! O leper land! Let the lone wolf-cry all express The hate insensate of thy hand, Thy heart's abysmal loneliness.

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