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Holy Saturday Commemoration of George Augustus Selwyn, first Bishop of New Zealand, 1878 Sing, men and angels, sing, for God our Life and King Has given us light and spring and morning breaking Now may man's soul arise as kinsman to the skies, And God unseals his eyes to an awaking. Sing, creatures, sing; the dust that lives by lure and lust Is kindled by the thrust of life undying; This hope our Master bare has made all fortunes fair, And man can on and dare, his death defying. After the winter snows a wind of healing blows, And thorns put forth a rose, and lilies cheer us; Life's everlasting spring has robbed death of his sting, Henceforth a cry can bring our Master near us.

Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth, nor blest abode But the hope, the burning hope, and the road, the lonely road. Not for us are content, and quiet, and peace of mind, For we go seeking cities that we shall never find.

Sometimes, when guests have gone, the host remembers Sweet courteous things unsaid. We two have talked our hearts out to the embers, And now go hand in hand down to the dead.

O lovely lily clean, O lily springing green, O lily bursting white, Dear lily of delight, Spring in my heart agen That I may flower to men.

The corn that makes the holy bread By which the soul of man is fed, The holy bread, the food unpriced, Thy everlasting mercy, Christ.

God dropped a spark down into everyone, And if we find and fan it to a blaze, It'll spring up and glow, like--like the sun, And light the wandering out of stony ways.

It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills, And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.