A girl was singing in a church choir
Of the weary people on foreign soil,
Of all the ships that sailed aspired,
Of all, who have forgotten their joy.
So sang her voice, to the cupola reaching,
White shoulders aglow in a dazzling ray,
And in the dark all were watching and harking
To the white dress singing in the ray.
And it seemed to them that joy was coming,
That all the ships, made a quiet berth,
That the weary people far from home dwelling
Found a happy life for themselves.
And the voice was sweet, and the ray was tiny,
And only up high, next to the Royal gate,
Privy to mysteries, a child was crying
That homecoming is no ones fate.