A pilgrim from the northern seas -
What joy for me to seek alone The wondrous temple and the throne Of him who holds the awful keys!
When, bright with purple and with gold Come priest and holy cardinal, And borne above the heads of all The gentle Shepherd of the Fold.
O joy to see before I die The only God-anointed king, And hear the silver trumpets ring A triumph as he passes by!
Or at the brazen-pillared shrine Holds high the mystic sacrifice, And shows his God to human eyes Beneath the veil of bread and wine.
