Arthur Sullivan, 1874 We hail Thee, Lord, Thy Church's rock, With joy-ful ac Thou guardian Shepherd of Thy flock, Come, feed Thy con-gre - ga - tion. We own the doc-trine of Thy cross To be our sole foun-da - tion: Had God not come, may Is - rael say, Had God not come to us, Our en - e - mies on that sad day Would sure-ly have dis mayed us; rem - nant now, and hand - ful small, Held in con-tempt and scorn by all, Who cruel-ly would op - press us. 2 Their furious wrath, did God permit, Would quickly have consumed us, And in the deep and yawning pit With life and limb entombed us; Like men o'er whom dark waters roll, The streams had gone e'en o'er our And mightily o'er whelmed us.[soul, 3 Thanks be to God, who from the pit Snatched us, when it was gaping: Our souls, like birds that break the To the blue sky escaping; [net, The snare is broken-we are free! The Lord our helper praised be, The God of earth and heaven. Arthur Sullivan, 1874 o Thee, (). Lord, our hearts we raise In hymns of ad - o To Thee bring sac- ri - fice The val-leys stand so thick with corn That e- ven they are sing - ing. 2 And now, on this our festal day, Thy bounteous hand confessing, Upon Thine altar, Lord, we lay The first-fruits of Thy blessing; By Thee the souls of men are fed With gifts of grace supernal; Thou who dost give us earthly bread, Give us the bread eternal. 3 We bear the burden of the day, And often toil seems dreary; But labor ends with sunset ray, And rest comes for the weary; May we, the angel-reaping o'er, Stand at the last accepted, Christ's golden sheaves for evermore To garners bright elected. 4 O blessed is that land of God, Where saints abide for ever; Where golden fields spread far and Where flows the crystal river;[broad, The strains of all its holy throng With ours to-day are blending; Thrice blessed is that harvest-song Which never hath an ending. W.C. Dix, 1864 |