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WE come unto our fathers’ God:
   Their Rock is our salvation:
The eternal arms, their dear abode,
    We make our habitation:
We bring Thee, Lord, the praise they brought;
We seek Thee as Thy saints have sought
    In every generation.
2  The fire divine, their steps that led,
    Still brightly shines before us;
The heavenly shield, around them spread,
    Is still held high, above us:
The grace those sinners that subdued,
The strength those weaklings that renewed,
    Still humbles and restores us.
3  The cleaving sins that brought them low
    Are still our souls oppressing;
The tears that from their eyes did flow
    Fall still, our shame confessing;
As with Thee, Lord, prevailed their cry,
So our strong prayer ascends on high,
    And gains for us Thy blessing.
4  Their joy unto their Lord we bring;
    Their song to us descendeth:
The Spirit Who in them did sing
    To us His music lendeth.
His song in them, in us, is one;
We raise it high, we send it on—
    The song that never endeth!
5  Ye saints to come, take up the strain,
    The same sweet theme endeavour!
Unbroken be the golden chain!
    Keep on the song for ever!
Safe in the same dear dwelling-place,
Rich with the same eternal grace,
    Bless the same boundless Giver!
Thomas Hornblower Gill, 1819-1906