Love whose heart is in ours, and part of all things noble and all
things fair;
Sweet and free as the circling sea, sublime and kind as the
fostering air;
Pure of shame as is England's name, whose crowns to come are as
crowns that were.


IV

I

But the Lord of darkness, the God whose love is a flaming fire,
The master whose mercy fulfils wide hell till its torturers tire,
He shall surely have heed of his servants who serve him for love,
not hire.

They shall fetter the wing of the wind whose pinions are plumed
with foam:
For now shall thy horn be exalted, and now shall thy bolt strike
home;
Yea, now shall thy kingdom come, Lord God of the priests of Rome.

They shall cast thy curb on the waters, and bridle the waves of the
sea:
They shall say to her, Peace, be still: and stillness and peace
shall be:
And the winds and the storms shall hear them, and tremble, and
worship thee.