Gather us to thy heart,
Lay us thy spirit bare:
Give us in thee our part,
O Mother young and fair!
Thou art so great, so great,
Thy children are so small,
We cannot guess thy state
Nor compass thee at all.
Our spirits yearn and ache
To forge, from these few years,
What soberer peoples make
From centuries of tears:
Love, like a tempered sword,
Glittering forth at need!
We can but pray the Lord
Who knows nor church nor creed,
The Day-spring from above,
The Truth that maketh free:
Give us great hearts to love
A great land worthily!
