Each corner of this human condition,
All mysteries of strength and servitude,
Of lowliness and rumbling renown,
Find final glory in one glorious life,

Our Lord perfecting this limped gait of ours,
Swept up from womb to roman cross and grave,
Through laughter and great sorrows' claws,
He took the depths of us and set them true.

The Lun and done,
The day is gone,
Just right it is,
Just right it was,
For the merry laughter,
Formed a jig and danced much dafter,
Put a smile on where it ought,
Putting me in grateful thought,
I think that it was lovely too,
I thank God for my brother too.

Bold-faced buildings,
Austere in lines ubiquitous,
Bounded by the patchwork clouds,
You guide the pavements through their paths ordained,
Outposts for the greener courtyards strewn behind,
How compelling is your brick-laid outlook,
You care for function, purpose, design,
And do not care for flaunting dress,
Your hearths glow warmed instead,
Endowed with ornaments of purpose,
Placed by your builder so.