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From darkness, and unto light

We witnessed the river and its gleam,

We came and we wept

Besides this river of sorrow

We wept dry our souls,

And found a moment of stillness,

From darkness, and to light

We cried for One to hear,

We searched and we longed,

For this eternal rest and joy,

Where are we to behold it?

Through the tempest of flowing sorrow,

And under the moonlight shadow.

We climb, we gleam, we weep.

A lonely wretch at a loss,

No starts of the firmament to guide,

A search through futility, no voice,

But a great Spirit to guide.

A hermit, who forsook the world,

And all its vanity,

He fled and wept by the river,

Yet his feeble cries were heard,

By a Voice crying out in the forest,

Remarked: "Fear not, your cries are heard."