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.