The light of which the poet spake,
That never shone o'er land or sea,
Is growing in the glowing West
To set the world from shadows free.
Across these dim-lit northern isles,
Encircled by the wintry seas,
Shall burst a light no summer knew
From Thanet to the Hebrides.
Dear lady in the distant West,
Nor thickest murk nor raging foam
Shall keep the Old World's loving thought
From shining on thy blessed home!
We send our greetings o'er the main,
Our loyal thoughts o'er ocean's roar,
We flash the love-light back again
From Thule to the western shore.
We pray for strength to keep the Faith,
And follow in the Living way
That leads above the gloom of earth
Up to the shining land of day.
