Eternal and sure doth the sun not rise, blessed the week's sacrament, seven times? Doth it not excel and decline, traveler of the noon, spite the warning of the road, the fog and gloom? The strength of the Son like a star 'neath the gray, beheld not in my eye, but a deeper way. Shining stone of my creed, guide our feet in the dark, go forth at night we brave ones to make a spark.