Sweet Heaven'S Smile Gleamed O'Er The Isle, That Gems The Dreamy Sea. One Far Gone Day, And Flash'D Its Ray, More Than A Thousand Years Away, Pure Bridget, Over Thee. White As The Snow, That Falls Below To Earth On Christmas Night, Thy Pure Face Shone On Every One; For Christ'S Sweet Grace Thy Heart Had Won To Make Thy Birth-Land Bright. A Cloud Hangs O'Er Thy Erin'S Shore -- Ah! God, 'Twas Always So. Ah! Virgin Fair Thy Heaven Pray'R Will Help Thy People In Their Care, And Save Them From Their Woe. Thou Art In Light -- They Are In Light; Thou Hast A Crown -- They A Chain. The Very Sod, Made Theirs By God, Is Still By Tyrants' Footsteps Trod; They Pray -- But All In Vain. Thou! Near Christ'S Throne, Dost Hear The Moan Of All Their Hearts That Grieve; Ah! Virgin Sweet, Kneel At His Feet, Where Angels' Hymns Thy Prayer Shall Greet, And Pray For Them This Eve.