1 We praise thy name, all-holy Lord,
For him, the beacon-light
That shone beside our western sea
Through mists of ancient night;
Who sent to Ireland’s fainting Church
New tidings of thy word:
For David, prince of Cambrian saints,
We praise thee, holy Lord.

2 For all the saintly band whose prayers
Still gird our land about,
Of whom, lest men disdain their praise,
The voiceless stones cry out;
Our hills and vales on every hand
Their names and deeds record:
For these, thy ancient hero host,
We praise thee, holy Lord.

3 Grant us but half their burning zeal,
But half their iron faith,
But half their charity of heart,
And fortitude to death;
That we with them and all thy saints
May in thy truth accord,
And ever in tThy holy Church
May praise thee, holy Lord.