Forging The Iron Of England lyrics

Where are now the bones of staunch fabricus? Wayland open for me the door to the underworld Art you king in your own right? Cold iron your ware Excalibur your pride So no that harm Through this threshold may come! A symbol of craftsmanship, A consoling image of permanence Amid the flux and decay of earthly existence Ye are but faithful treasurers of the lord's wealth The articiers of spiritual jewels ...And the smiths of celestial weapons