Like boys who build their castles from little blocks of wood, And imagine that they are king today of all that´s great and good; We men build our own walls, perhaps of granite stone, And proudly sit within those walls upon our self-made throne. Foolishly we climb our highest tower and look across the land, to see if someone else´s castle upon a higher hill might stand. Then gazing at the flying clouds and sinking sun of day, A memory stirs from deep inside of castles far away; Splendid ones with spires of light and towering walls of. . .