May God protect ye on thy path.
And all yer days, everything ye have.
Lands of yore, shores of hope, shining on thee.
What evil has be done shall perish, evaporating as morning dew.

As retreat'd yer sweet songs scatter o'er the land.
Heard by lonely rovers swaggering on hills o' man.
Caught by the wind, floating away to the shores.
Where a distant light twinkling before longing lovers.

Ye shall not be redeemed.
In life, nor in dream.
Ay heart o' yers was torn in tatters.
Ye lingered among the silhouettes of the trees.

'Tis a long lonely road ye walk.
Thru' seasons that stalk.
With evergreen trees marching by the river.
As ye watched yer lover walking away in shivers.

O God come and catch our every tear.
For Thou art the hand that built our lands.
Our hearts melting as we climb Thy banks to get nearer.
With angels and saints lamenting lost souls on Thy shores.