The turning earth will raise its wand And bring the seasons to their frutiful end and little men and trains will crasl And snake their way around the timeless bend And rivers, too, will course their way to find the hungry Mother Sea at last And love will grow, it will come to pass
The sun will blaze its scorching path across the sky a million times or more and men with charts will scan the skies in quest of life on some forgotten shore
and in the quiet womb the sleeping seed will stretch its arms and grow at last and love will grow, it will come to pass
It will come to pass
Though men and minds and times will change still pinioned they by fers of growinkg old though scalpeled hands will plumb the deepest corners none will find the soul yet bearded men in sandwich boards will tell the sinfuls treets 'He's Come At Last', and love will grow, it will come to pass