The Day Has Never Understood The Gloaming Or The Night; Though Sired By One Creative Power, And Nursed At Nature'S Breast; The White Man Ever Fails To Read The Dark Man'S Heart Aright; Though From The Self-Same Source They Came, Upon The Self-Same Quest; So Deep And Wide, The Great Divide, Between The East And West. But Like A Shadow On A Screen, Mine Eyes Behold, Above The Yawning Gulf, A Dim Forecast, Of Structures Strong And Broad; Where Caste, And Colour Prejudice, By Countless Feet Down Trod, With Old Traditions Crushed By Time, Pave Smooth The Bridge Of Love; And All The Creed That Men Shall Heed Is Consciousness Of God.