Across the Sussex lanes and swelling hills,
There ring out bells calling to prayer and praise,
From stately spire, where now God's servants raise
Their intercessions with unselfish wills.
Dear Lady, great Saint Hugh, bear up their hands;
God's Spirit ever brood above their shrine;
Our Blessed Lord, in Sacrament Divine,
Bless the poor way-worn of those beauteous lands,
Shedding his grace and mercy over all.
Green are the bright green leaves of wood and wold,
The lilies white and petalled fair with gold;
Bells chime, or ring, with solemn measured call.
Spring-time is here: God give a fairer spring
For ‘Mary's Dower.’ So, chime your bells and ring.