A Modern Hymn Lord of the moorlands, the remote and lone islands Eye of the eagle soaring high o'er the glens Wind in the sails of the wayfaring sailor Bringing him safely to his haven again God of the city and vaste conurbations Girder and steel of the concrete domain Heart pumping softly through subways and sidewalks Masses of people, the blood through her veins Sultan supreme in the wastes of the deserts Oasis of life in the drought stricken sands Whispering silence spanning windswept savannas The peeling of thunder that troubles the land Lord of the cosmos, vaste empty spaces Breath stirring up the dust storms on Mars Hand of creation's primeval wisdom Extending a sceptre that touches the stars