Year after year the morning light soft lies
Along Cornwall on wave-beat cliff and scar;
Year after year the evening sun afar
Casts lingering sheen where warring breakers rise.
Untiring, on swift wing the sea-bird flies,
While calmly, constant as the gleaming star,
The river Dart rolls to the harbour bar,
And mirrors clouds in over-smiling skies.

Crusaders gathered here in time of old,
And hence sailed vaunting barks to far Calais,
Or toward the western world. Hearts that were bold
Are silent now, while cliff and tower decay.
The spirit of the fathers is not cold;
But lives the olden faith in us to-day.