From the mists and the snows and the thunders
⁠Your spirit has brought for us forth
Light, music, and joy in the wonders
⁠And charms of the north.

The wars and the woes and the glories
⁠That quicken and lighten and rain
From the clouds of its chronicled stories,
⁠The passion, the pride, and the pain,
Whose echoes were mute and the token
⁠Was lost of the spells that they spake,
Rise bright at your bidding, unbroken
⁠Of ages that break.

For you, and for none of us other,
⁠Time is not: the dead that must live
Hold commune with you as a brother
⁠By grace of the life that you give.