In the shadowed streets that sigh
Under burden of human cry,
From the troubled hearts that weep,
As secrets silent sleep.

There flows a river where flowers bloom
On banks of gold and verdant plume,
Where zaftig earth finds its voice,
In nature's sweet rejoice.

And as the dawn in crimson hue,
Breaks forth on world refreshed anew,
A sun of hope and prayer true
Sparkles silver yon pavements' dew.