When ochre ground and life took shape as man,
When the flaming brand took post at the eastern gate,
To guard the solitary way–their fate
As exiles born upon the wilding land.
At dawn the sun behind their backs cast shadows
In their tracks to light the way of sorrows,
At eve he sank beneath the shade they followed
And ever on they sought out hidden meadows,
Born westward towards the setting son of Calvary.
That night that rent the veil and cracked the grave,
That pierced the path of light ‘tween earth and heaven,
That wilder image bright we chased towards Calvary,
Clinging to the blood stained olive stave
And so we wander West in quest of Eden.