| Across the wet November night
|
| The church is bright with candlelight
|
| And waiting Evensong, (2x)
|
| A single bell with plaintive strokes
|
| Pleads louder than the stirring oaks
|
| The leafless lanes along. |
| (2x)
|
| It calls the choirboys from their tea
|
| And villagers, the two or three,
|
| Damp down the kitchen fire (2x)
|
| Let out the cat, and up the lane
|
| Go paddling through the gentle rain
|
| Of misty Oxfordshire (2x)
|
| On country morning sharp and clear
|
| The penitent in faith draw near
|
| And kneeling here below (2x)
|
| Partake the heavenly banquet spread
|
| Of sacramental Wine and Bread
|
| And Jesus' presence know (2x)
|
| And must that plaintive bell in vain
|
| Plead loud along the dripping lane?
|
| And must the building fall? |
| (2x)
|
| Not while we love the church and live
|
| And of our charity will give
|
| Our much, our more, our all (2x) |