 | Sermons and songs of the Christian life |  |
235
SONG FOR THE COMING CRISIS.
(1858.)
O Church of Christ, to prayer, to prayer! lean on thy sacred shrine,
And there while lowly bowing down, receive the strength divine:
Then rise and let thy faithful word be healing for our woes,
And let the Spirit's flaming sword be lightning on thy foes!
And there while lowly bowing down, receive the strength divine:
Then rise and let thy faithful word be healing for our woes,
And let the Spirit's flaming sword be lightning on thy foes!
Hark! in the horologue of Time, God strikes the awful hour!
Zion must now stand face to face with Moloch's threat'ning power;
The subtle snare of compromise her hand and tongue that bound,
Breaks clean away, and now her feet take hold on solid ground.
Zion must now stand face to face with Moloch's threat'ning power;
The subtle snare of compromise her hand and tongue that bound,
Breaks clean away, and now her feet take hold on solid ground.
And there she stands—aye, on the Rock where stood God's Church of old,
When seas of blood dashed at her feet, and waves of trouble rolled,
There let her speak in that great name which faithless men profane,
And they who scoff at Freedom's Word shall wag their tongue in vain.
When seas of blood dashed at her feet, and waves of trouble rolled,
There let her speak in that great name which faithless men profane,
And they who scoff at Freedom's Word shall wag their tongue in vain.
236
By the blest throngs of pilgrim ghosts that haunt New England's air;
By pilgrim graves o'er all her hills and down her valleys fair;
By all the pilgrim's faith in God that burns within our souls;
By every drop of pilgrim blood that through her bosom rolls,
By pilgrim graves o'er all her hills and down her valleys fair;
By all the pilgrim's faith in God that burns within our souls;
By every drop of pilgrim blood that through her bosom rolls,
No hunters here for human prey to snuff their trail of blood;
No laws to grind the helpless poor and break the laws of God;
No tyrant's troops to line our streets or tramp our valleys green,
While Bunker's shaft looks from the sky down on the shameful scene!
No laws to grind the helpless poor and break the laws of God;
No tyrant's troops to line our streets or tramp our valleys green,
While Bunker's shaft looks from the sky down on the shameful scene!
Ring with thy bells a swift alarm from every crashing spire,
And speak with lips which God's right hand has touched with coals of fire;
Let Christ's whole Gospel be proclaimed, let God's whole truth be shown,
And let the East and West respond and echo tone for tone.
And speak with lips which God's right hand has touched with coals of fire;
Let Christ's whole Gospel be proclaimed, let God's whole truth be shown,
And let the East and West respond and echo tone for tone.
Then rise, O Church of Christ, arise! shake off thy slumbers now,
God's conquering strength within thy heart, his calmness on thy brow;
In Christ's dear name who died for man, put all thy glories on;
No bondsman's blood upon thy robes, no stain upon thy lawn!
God's conquering strength within thy heart, his calmness on thy brow;
In Christ's dear name who died for man, put all thy glories on;
No bondsman's blood upon thy robes, no stain upon thy lawn!
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