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.