The Age Is Too Diffusive. Time And Force Are Frittered Out And Bring No Satisfaction. The Way Seems Lost To Straight Determined Action. Like Shooting Stars That Zig-Zag From Their Course We Wander From Our OrbIt's Pathway; Spoil The Role We're Fitted For, To Fail In Twenty. Bring Empty Measures, That Were Shaped For Plenty, At Last As Guerdon For A Life Of Toil. There'S Lack Of Greatness In This Generation Because No More Man Centres On One Thought. We Know This Truth, And Yet We Heed It Not: The Secret Of Success Is Concentration.