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.

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.

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 Thy holy Church,
May praise Thee, holy Lord.