Down the gorge the river rushes
Like a foam-flecked steed
Urged on by an unseen rider
Ever faster and n'er giving heed
...
In the air there's a hint of the season ahead
That is already crouched at the door
The flowers are asleep in their little earth beds
And brown and bare is the moor
...
As we stand with faith and gratitude
On the threshold of the day
That will usher in a bright new world
The one for which we pray
...
The River
Down the gorge the river rushes
Like a foam-flecked steed
Urged on by an unseen rider
Ever faster and n'er giving heed
To the precipice yawning before it
But plunging on with a roar
Leaps wildly over the cliff
And down to the valley floor
Rising amidst a spray of foam
Rushing on once again
Down through the winding valley
Out o'er the rolling plain
Past meadow, forest and farm land
Past castle and miners shack
Under bridges and trestle and causeway
Never stopping or looking back
But on through daylight and darkness
Until suddenly, around the last bend
There lies the surging ocean
And there lies journey's end.