O fair Iona of my heart, O sweet Iona of my love, where once the great Columba prayed, you ride upon the cold blue sea; your song to angels and to men you sing throughout the ages past, and now again my soul is drawn to make the pilgrimage again. The Holy God has touched His hand upon your hills and stony shores, from high Dun I and leading south to Saint Columba's ancient bay; the Holy Mighty's face is here inscribed upon this cross of old; the Holy and Immortal One still dwells in grass, in sand, in stone. And now, Iona, wait for me, until I can again set foot upon your blessed stones and hills, to chant once more the ancient song. I'll hold you ever near to me, residing deep within my soul, I'll hear your sweet and holy song, the music of eternity.