Wherever you are, whatever you’ve done,
   However the land is lying,
If you but call by night or day,
Though hope is lost and the Devil to pay,
Though hounds of hell should bar the way,
Yet I would come to where you lay —
   Or perish in the trying.

Wherever you are, whatever you’ve done,
   Whichever the flag you’re flying,
If but you call by day or night,
In men’s contempt, in friend’s despite,
By the sickle moon or broad daylight,
Yet I shall come to set all right —
   Or perish in the trying.