Her name is Hilary Jolly. She lives in Great Britain where she works as a church cleaner. She has given us a wonderful gift - a new hymn for the new millennium entitled, "Through the Darkness of the Ages". She wrote the hymn as an entry in a hymn-writing contest held by St. Paul's Cathedral in London. Over 400 entries were received. As you read through the hymn you will see why hers was selected. The first time I read through the hymn, the tune that went through my head was "Joyous Light of Heavenly Glory," one of the canticles in Evening Prayer. Hilary Jolly's hymn is suitable for singing during Advent as well as on New Millennium's Eve. The poetry is breathtaking in its sweep. It lifts up the faithfulness of our God in ways we have not seen since "O God Our Help in Ages Past," but with far more grace and with a richness to its vocabulary that distances it from that old standard. The word pictures are so vibrant as in "Countless flow'rs have bloomed and withered, Countless noons are sealed in night, Shattered thrones and fallen empires, Realms and riches lost from sight." And in "When, as light'ning leaps the heavens, You return to lead us home." Finally, it leads to a crashing crescendo of hope, the ancient cry of the church, "Maranatha, come Lord Jesus." 

Here are the words by Hilary Jolly:

Through the darkness of the ages, 
Through the sorrows of the days, 
Strength of weary generations, 
Lifting hearts in hope and praise, 
Light in darkness, joy in sorrow, 
Presence to allay all fears, 
Jesus, you have kept your promise, 
Faithful through two thousand years. 
Bounty of two thousand harvests, 
Beauty of two thousand springs, 
God who framed the times and seasons 
Has vouchsafed us greater things. 
Word of God who spoke creation 
Speaks forgiveness, speaks to save, 
Gathers still a ransomed people 
In the life he freely gave. 
Countless flow'rs have bloomed and withered, 
Countless noons are sealed in night, 
Shattered thrones and fallen empires, 
Realms and riches lost from sight. 
Christ, your kingdom still increases 
As the centuries unfold. 
Grain that fell to earth and perished 
Has brought forth ten thousand fold. 
Master, we shall sing your praises, 
Man of sorrows, God of pow'r, 
For the measured march of seasons 
Shall at least bring in the hour 
When, as light'ning leaps the heavens, 
You return to lead us home. 
You have promised, "I am coming." 
Swiftly, our Lord Jesus, come. 

--John Gugel