Praise to our God! if e’en Death’s shadow lower,
Hope lightens all the gloom, with radiant crest—
Oh! Joy is, oft, in garb of sorrow drest,
And direst grief brings rapture as its dower.
Thus, on the night of ages, flashed a light
Of wondrous power and splendor, Learning came
Forth from the cloisters. Welcome to the sight,
A breath from Heaven relit religion’s flame.
’Twas then, his sail the great Discover furled,
’Twas then, was born, as ’twere, this western world.