As with thy chosen moved of yore

The fire by night, the cloud by day! 2 When from each temple of the free

A nation's song ascends to heaven, Most holy Father, unto thee

Now let our humble prayer be given. 3 Sweet peace is here ; and hope and love

Are round us as a mantle thrown, And unto thee, supreme above,

The knee of prayer is bowed alone. 4 And grant, O Father, that the time

Of earth's deliverance may be near, When every land and tongue and clime

The message of thy love shall hear, 5 When, smitten as with fire from heaven,

The captive's chain shall sink in dust,
And to his fettered soul be given
The glorious freedom of the just.

PIERPONT.
Anniversary Hymn.
1 GOD of mercy, do thou never

From our offering turn away,
But command a blessing ever

On the memory of this day.
2 Light and peace do thou ordain it ;

Let no deadly darkness stain it,

And no clouds be o'er it hung.
3 May the song this people raises,

And its vows to thee addressed,
Mingle with the prayers and praises,

That thou hearest from the blest.
4 When the lips are cold that sing thee,
And the hearts that love thee dust,

Father, then our souls shall bring thee

Holier love and firmer trust. 752.

L. M.

WHITTIER.
Freedom.
1 O HOLY Father, just and true

Are all thy works and words and ways,
And unto thee alone are due

Thanksgiving and eternal praise !
As children of thy gracious care,

We veil the eye, — we bend the knee, -
With broken words of praise and prayer,

Father and God, we come to thee.
2 For thou hast heard, O God of right,

The sighing of the hapless slave ;
And stretched for him the arm of might,

Not shortened that it could not save.
The laborer sits beneath his vine,

The shackled soul and hand are free ;-
Thanksgiving ! – for the work is thine !

Praise ! — for the blessing is of thee.
3 Speed on thy work, Lord God of hosts !

And when the bondsman's chain is riven,
And swells from all our country's coasts

The anthem of the free to heaven,
O, not to those whom thou hast led,

As with thy cloud and fire before,
But unto thee, in fear and dread,

Be praise and glory evermore. 753. C. M.

C. SPRAGUE.
The Pilgrims.
1 OUR fathers, Lord, to seek a spot

Where they might kneel to thee,
Their own fair heritage forgot,
And braved an unknown sea.

2 Here found their pilgrim souls repose

Where long the heathen roved ;
And here their humble anthems rose

To bless the Power they loved.
3 They sleep in dust, — but where they trod,

A feeble, fainting band,
Glad millions catch the strain, O God,

And sound it through the land. 154.

L. M.

W.P. Lunt.
Our Forefathers.
1 WHEN, driven by oppression's rod,

Our fathers fled beyond the sea,
Their care was first to honor God,

And next to leave their children free.
2 Above the forest's gloomy shade

The altar and the school appeared ;
On that the gifts of faith were laid,

In this their precious hopes were reared. 3 Armed with intelligence and zeal,

Their sons shook off the tyrant's chain,
The rights of freemen quick to feel,

And nobly daring to maintain.
4 The altar and the school still stand,

The sacred pillars of our trust,
And freedom's sons shall fill the land

When we are sleeping in the dust.
5 Before thine altar, Lord, we bend,

With grateful song and fervent prayer,
For thou who wast our fathers' friend

Wilt make our offspring still thy care. 1755. L. M. 6 L. H. WARE, JR.

The God of our Fathers.
1 LIKE Israel's hosts to exile driven,

Across the flood the pilgrims fed ;

Their hands bore up the ark of Heaven,

And Heaven their trusting footsteps led,
Till on these savage shores they trod,

And won the wilderness for God.
2 Then, where their weary ark found rest,

Another Zion proudly grew;
In more than Judah's glory dressed,

With light that Israel never knew.
From sea to sea her empire spread,

Her temple Heaven, and Christ her head. 3 Then let the grateful Church to-day

Its ancient rite with gladness keep ;
And still our fathers' God display

His kindness, though the fathers sleep.
0, bless, as thou hast blessed the past,
While earth, and time, and heaven shall last.

756.

P. M. H. WARE, JR.

The Progress of Freedom.
1 OPPRESSION shall not always reign;

There comes a brighter day,
When freedom, burst from every chain,

Shall have triumphant way.
Then right shall over might prevail,
And truth, like hero armed in mail,
The hosts of tyrant wrong assail,

And hold eternal sway.
2 What voice shall bid the progress stay

Of truth's victorious car ?
What arm arrest the growing day,

Or quench the solar star ?
What reckless soul, though stout and strong,
Shall dare bring back the ancient wrong,
Oppression's guilty night prolong,
And freedom's morning bar ?.

3 The hour of triumph comes apace,

The fated, promised hour,
When earth upon a ransomed race

Her bounteous gifts shall shower.
Ring, Liberty, thy glorious bell !
Bid high thy sacred banner swell!
Let trump on trump the triumph tell

Of Heaven's redeeming power.

1757. L. M.

C. SPRAGUE. For the Blessing of Schools. 10 THOU, at whose dread name we bend,

To whom our purest vows we pay,
God over all, in love descend,

And bless the labors of this day. 2 Our fathers here, a pilgrim band,

Fixed the proud empire of the free ;
Art moved in gladness o’er the land,

And Faith her altars reared to thee.
3 Here, too, to guard, through every age,

The sacred rights their valor won,
They bade instruction spread her page,

And send down truth from sire to son. 4 Here still, through all succeeding time,

Their stores may truth and learning bring,
And still the anthem-note sublime

To thee from children's children sing.