Cypher Seven "07"

The nearer camp fires lighted,     The distant beacons bright,     The horsemen on the skyline     Are closing in to-night!     My brothers, Oh my brothers!     Lie down and rest at last,     The Years of Reparation     Have rushed upon us fast.     Oh, ride and ride, you riders,     Who rode ere I was born,     While blink-and-blink the star-dust     That blinks before the morn.     And glow and glow you camp fires,     And flash, you beacons bright!     Theyre riding round the wronged ones     And riding round the right!     My brothers, Oh my brothers!     With dried and haggard eyes,     In gaol for just blows stricken,     In gaol for womens lies!     Lie down and pace no longer     But bathe your eyes in tears     For Years of Retribution     That shall be seven years!     Their lovers and believers!     Their sweethearts, sisters, wives,     Their daughters, sons and mothers,     The true friends of their lives!     Hold up your heads and firmly     Look down the Crooked Seers     For Years of Justifying     That shall be seven years.     Inventors, artists, poets,     Exiled or driven mad,     Sweated, sneered at, slandered,     And driven to the bad,     Take up the tools of genius,     Freed from all paltry fears,     For Seasons of Repayment     That shall be seven years.     Oh, ride and ride, you riders,     That rode when I was born     Against a ghastly skyline     Beneath a storm-cloud torn!     I watched you through my childhood,     I saw the whip and spur,     No spys glass could detect you     But I knew what you were!     Oh, ride and ride, my riders,     And flash my birth star bright!     The youth I never dreamed of     Is with me here to-night!     The hearing, strength and vision,     The will to do and dare,     The love I ever longed for     Is round me everywhere.     Dead Friendship, ah! Dead Friendship,     Rise up and breathe again,     I ride my rounds re-honoured     Along the ranks of men.     My old mates, Oh! my old mates,     Who fought the cur and brute,     My horsemen from the skyline     Are drawn up to salute!     My Dead Love, Oh! my Dead Love,     Who died for love of me,     Who sleeps amongst the poets     Since five years sobbed the sea.     Since five years blackened honour     And cramped and warped the pen,     Theres glory to your spirit     The laurel leafs again.     My enemies, the causeless     Of vicious mysteries,     Or mad with jealous madness,     Or for the crawlers fees,     Fear ye my Cypher Seven!     For seven years to run,     The number set by Heaven     When Heavens will is done.     So ride and ride, my riders,     And ride for men and me,     Ride close round madness yonder     And blackest treachery!     Oh! ride round little children     That sleep through all and smile!,     At daybreak I will lead you,     Now I must rest awhile.