Thou gast called me I must go,
where the Northern waters flow,
I will see my place of childhood never more.

From my homeland I have turned,
pressing onward, bridges burned,
and beyond the great horizon I will sail.

And we'll rise in the light of Iona,
kindle fires in the hearts of men,
and by thy Holy Spirit will venture,
loving souls Thy Kingdom to win.

With our oars we move as one,
flashing brightly 'neath the sun,
every heartbeat bring us closer to the shore.

On the wind your touch we fell,
on the sand will rest the keel,
Holy Spirit and the wild goose as our guide.

So your banner we shall raise,
flood these skies with songs of praise,
claiming shelter in the islando of thy Son.
Come the darkness, sword or flame,
we shall hold fast to the name,
and will follow thee to glory evermore.