We knelt at Mass with sobbing heart Cold, in the dawn of day.
The dawn for us, for him the night,
Who was so young
and gay.
Then from the Altar spoke the priest, His voice rang thin with pain
Bidding us pray, a boy must die
At England's
hands again.
The cruel English tortured him,
He never shrank or cried;
Sublime his faith, the gallows tree
He faced that
day with pride.
Proudly he gave his life for her,
To whom his heart was given; His dying eyes knew Freedom near,
Saw Death the
Gate of Heaven.
Bright flaming dawn of a young life,
Simple and pure and brave; One childlike prayerful sacrifice,
His end -- a
felon's grave.
His end! No end to lives like his; With us he lives alway.
Bright through our night, a shining star, He lights for
us the way.
And Christ, who died for love of us,
Tortured and bruised and shamed, Gives courage to such hero souls,
Unbending
and untamed.
