Give Us Grace To Listen Well.

Thou Art The Sun Of Other Days. They Shine By Giving Back The Rays.

Blest Are The Pure In Heart, For They Shall See Our God. The Secret Of The Lord Is Theirs; Their Soul Is Christ's Abode.

Peace Is The First Thing The Angels Sang.

Soft As Memnon's Harp At Morning, To The Inward Ear Devout, Touched By Light, With Heavenly Warning Your Transporting Chords Ring Out. Every Leaf In Every Nook, Every Wave In Every Brook, Chanting With A Solemn Voice Minds Us Of Our Better Choice.

Time's Waters Will Not Ebb Nor Stay.