Light flows slowly, in the door
By the windows, through dreary floor
In by the Sun, the brightest of orbs
Down from the Savior, the Lord of lords
Liquid light, so crisp and refreshing
Streaming down, ever sweet and delicately
It cheers my heart, and it solaces my grief
Such unhallowed grief as with one is confronted by in the dark.
It may shine brightly in the sight
But it is a wondrous scintillating beacon of hope in the darkest of nights
And every man shall know it right
They shall come and seek the light.
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