Spirits rise from the watery depths upon the dawn,
A mother’s love gone from this worlds view,
Sins of man, a biter tale so foregone,
Ranks of the unwashed left to construe.
Across the star washed bays and rustic glens,
Ringing with the crash of pikes and wounded men,
Long before through watch men’s star filled lens,
Monks in joy, bent in prayer to say ‘amen.’
For id a man is born of spirit, of water.
Entrance into the kingdom of God a waits,
And all of this lands sons and daughters,
With revolution’s passion they raise.
Through the clover, little did they know, over the sea,
Christ their savior bled to make men free.