STROPHE 1

With songs and crying and sounds of acclamations, Lo, the flame risen, the fire that falls in showers! Hark; for the word is out among the nations: Look; for the light is up upon the hours: O fears, O shames, O many tribulations, Yours were all yesterdays, but this day ours. Strong were your bonds linked fast with lamentations, With groans and tears built into walls and towers; Strong were your works and wonders of high stations, Your forts blood-based, and rampires of your powers: Lo now the last of divers desolations, The hand of time, that gathers hosts like flowers; Time, that fills up and pours out generations; Time, at whose breath confounded empire cowers.