John Oxenham

India

   A land of lights and shadows intervolved,
   A land of blazing sun and blackest night,
   A fortress armed, and guarded jealously,
   With every portal barred against the Light.
 
   A land in thrall to ancient mystic faiths,
   A land of iron creeds and gruesome deeds,
   A land of superstitions vast and grim,
   And all the noisome growths that Darkness breeds.
 
   Like sunny waves upon an iron-bound coast,
   The Light beats up against the close-barred doors,
   And seeks vain entrance, yet beats on and on,
   In hopeful faith which all defeat ignores.
 
   But—time shall come, when, like a swelling tide,
   The Word shall leap the barriers, and The Light
   Shall sweep the land; and Faith and Love and Hope
   Shall win for Christ this stronghold of the night.
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