FOR ever hallowed be this morning fair, Blest be the unconscious shore on which ye tread, And blest the silver Cross, which ye, instead Of martial banner, in procession bear; The Cross preceding Him who floats in air, The pictured Saviour! -- By Augustin led, They come -- and onward travel without dread, Chanting in barbarous ears a tuneful prayer -- Sung for themselves, and those whom they would free! Rich conquest waits them: -- the tempestuous sea Of Ignorance, that ran so rough and high And heeded not the voice of clashing swords, These good men humble by a few bare words, And calm with fear of God's divinity. |