University of Virginia Library


115

II.
HYMNS FOR ORDINATION AND INSTALLATION.


117

[I. O Thou who art above all height]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. William Ware, as Pastor of the First Congregational Church in New York, December 18th, 1821.

O Thou who art above all height!
Our God, our Father, and our Friend!
Beneath thy throne of love and light,
We, thine adoring children, bend.
We kneel in praise,—that here is set
A vine, that by thy culture grew;
We kneel in prayer,—that thou wouldst wet
Its opening leaves with heavenly dew.
Since thy young servant now hath given
Himself, his powers, his hopes, his youth,
To the great cause of truth and Heaven;
Be thou his guide, O God of truth!
Here may his doctrine drop like rain,
His speech like Hermon's dew distill,
Till green fields smile, and golden grain,
Ripe for the harvest, waits thy will.

118

And when he sinks in death,—by care,
Or pain, or toil, or years oppressed,—
O God! remember then our prayer,
And take his spirit to thy rest.

[II. To Thee, our Father and our King]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. John P. B. Storer, as Pastor of the Congregational Church and Society in Walpole, November 15th, 1826.

To Thee, our Father and our King,
The wise, the gracious, and the just,
Our song of thanks and prayer we bring,
With humble joy and filial trust.
Joy, that while yet the light is shed
On the bowed form and hoary hairs
Of him who here, so long, hath led
Our fathers' and our childhood's prayers,—
Thou hast provided for thy flock
A pastor, in the strength of youth,
To lead them up to Thee, their Rock,
And to the living wells of truth.
And trust, that He, who ne'er hath left,
Will never leave his sheep to stray,
Of shepherd and of shade bereft,
O'er barren wastes, by night or day.

119

We thank Thee, Lord, in Christ thy Son,
For all his servants, spared or given;
O, may we, when our work is done,
Shine with their light, and share their heaven.

[III. God of mercy, do thou never]

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Written for the same occasion.

God of mercy, do thou never
From our offering turn away,
But command a blessing ever
On the memory of this day.
Light and peace do Thou ordain it;
O'er it be no shadow flung;
Let no deadly darkness stain it,
And no cloud be o'er it hung.
May the song this people raises,
And its vows, to Thee addressed,
Mingle with the prayers and praises,
That Thou hearest from the blessed.
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.
 

See Job iii. 4, 5.


120

[IV. Eternal One, whom mortal eye]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. Charles C. Sewall, as Pastor of the First Unitarian Church and Society in Danvers, April 11th, 1827.

Eternal One, whom mortal eye
Hath never seen, and ne'er can see,
Loud winds, and fires that flame on high,
Are spirits ministering to thee.
Those angels of thy love and might,
How blest the office that they bear!
To shed on earth the holy light,
And fill with health the wakened air.
And yet, to man hast thou assigned
A nobler ministry than this;—
With grace and truth to cheer the mind,
And wake the soul to health and bliss.
By him, who to this holy end
Is now ordained,—as by the Son,
Whom thou didst sanctify and send
To save the world,—thy will be done.

121

Thy will be done, whene'er he leads
The service in these courts of thine;
Thy will be done, whene'er he pleads
For truth or charity divine.
When at the couch by anguish pressed
He kneels, and speaks of pardon there,
Then may the contrite sufferer rest,
Soothed by his presence and his prayer.
When, like the moth, his house of clay
Is crushed, O may the spirit, Lord,
That served thee in it, hear thee say,
“Rise from thy toils to thy reward.”
 

1 Tim. vi. 16.

Ps. civ. 4.

John i. 17.

John x. 36.

Is. lix. 4.

Job iv. 19.

[V. O God, we see thee smile again]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. George W. Burnap, as Pastor of the First Independent Church in Baltimore, April 23d, 1828.

O God, we see thee smile again
In the sweet sunshine of the spring;
Thou comest in the gracious rain;
Thou ridest on the wind's soft wing.
Thou visitest the vales in floods,
That in their fulness roll along;
And, when thou breathest on the woods,
They wave in pomp, and wake with song.

122

And, Lord, are not thy goings thus
In this our sanctuary seen?
Comes not thy breath of life to us,
Our prospects clothing all in green?
Reviving hopes around us bud,
Hopes, that were rooted long ago,
But languished till thy grace, in flood,
Returned and bade them swell and blow.
What though for years thy feeble flock
By hands of strangers hath been fed?—
What though we've long drawn near our Rock
Without a shepherd at our head?
We humbly hope, that not in vain
We 've borne the trials of our trust;
And that thy truth will rise, like grain,
The stronger for its sleep in dust.
For days of care, and hope deferred,
O grant us years of large increase,
Till from above thy voice is heard;
“Ye faithful ones, depart in peace.”

123

[VI. “Let there be light!”—When from on high]

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Written for the Installation of the Rev. Mellish Irving Motte, over the South Congregational Society in Boston, May 21st, 1828.

Let there be light!”—When from on high,
O God, that first commandment came,
Forth leaped the Sun; and earth and sky
Lay in his light, and felt his flame.
“Let there be light!”—The light of grace
And truth, a darkling world to bless,
Came with thy word, when on our race
Broke forth the Sun of Righteousness.
Light of our souls! how strong it grows!
That Sun! how wide his beams he flings,
As up the glorious sky he goes,
With light and healing in his wings!
Give us that light! O God, 't is given!
Hope sees it open heaven's wide halls
To those, who for the truth have striven;
And Faith walks firmly where it falls.
Churches no more, in cold eclipse,
Mourn the withholding of its rays;
It gilds their gates, and on the lips
Of every faithful preacher plays.

124

Doth not its circle clasp the brows
Of him, who, in the strength of youth,
Gives himself up, in this day's vows,
A minister of grace and truth?
Long may it, Lord;—nor let his soul
Go through death's gloomy vale alone;
But bear it on to its high goal,
Wrapped in the light that veils thy throne.

[VII. “On earth be peace!”—O God, that word]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. William Barry, over the Second Congregational Church and Society in Lowell November 17th, 1830.

On earth be peace!”—O God, that word
To our ears comes not, as it came,
When by Judea's shepherds heard
From opening skies and lips of flame.
Yet 't is thy word, when mortal tongue
Makes it the burden of a hymn,
Not less than when, of old, it rung
From golden harps of cherubim.
What though heaven's gates no more expand,
And heavenly hosts their hymning cease!
On earth thine humbler servants stand,
In humbler temples, “preaching peace.”

125

Peace to the passions, when they show
Resistance to thy wise control;
Peace to all fears, but those which go
In arms against a sinful soul.
Peace may thy servant preach, who now
Comes, as a herald of thy grace,
To lead thy people when they bow
In worship, in this holy place.
Beneath his care and labors, Lord,
O, grant thy vineyard large increase;
And may a crown, as his reward,
Be given him by the Prince of Peace.

[VIII. When on the sun's broad splendors]

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Written for the Installation of the Rev Andrew Bigelow, over the First Congregational Church and Society in Taunton, April 10th, 1833.

When on the sun's broad splendors
The gates of evening close,
And darkling earth surrenders
Her children to repose,
The azure paths above us
By sons of light are trod,
Who watch, as those who love us,
And tell us of our God.

126

So, Father, since the portals,
Round which thine angels press,
Shut from the eyes of mortals
The Sun of Righteousness,
The world he blessed hath never
Of light been all bereft;
The heralds of thy favor,
Thy watchmen, still are left.
They come, when we are weeping,
To wipe our tears away;
They wake, while we are sleeping,
And for our peace they pray;
Or, in the congregation,
To plead thy cause they stand;—
O God of our salvation,
Uphold them with thy hand.
And let that spirit fervent,
Which loves to labor thus,
Abide upon thy servant,
Who comes, this day, to us;
That, when his strength is failing,
Those he hath led may say,
“Our star is only paling
In heaven's advancing day.”

127

[IX. “The poor, the suffering poor,”—He said]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. John T. Sargent as a Minister to the Poor in Boston, October 29th, 1839.

The poor, the suffering poor,”—He said,
Who, from his garment's very hem
A healing virtue round him shed,—
“Shall have the Gospel preached to them.”
Yes! He, upon whose houseless head
The stars dropped many a dewy gem,
Broke, for the poor, the living bread
He brought from heaven, and gave it them.
Beneath the shade that branch hath spread,
Which shot out green from Jesse's stem,
These wandering poor are gathered
To have the Gospel preached to them.
He, who with oxen made his bed,—
The houseless Babe of Bethlehem,—
These houseless babes hath hither led,
To have his Gospel preached to them.
Lord, bless thy servant, who hath fed
These lambs of thine, and help him stem
The tide of sin, with fearless tread,
And preach the Gospel unto them.

128

May not the soul of each be said,
O God, to be a priceless gem?
Give them to him, who for them bled,
To sparkle in his diadem!

[X. To thee, O God, our Rock]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. Frederick W. Holland, over the First Unitarian Society in Brooklyn, N. Y., April 11th, 1838.

To thee, O God, our Rock,
Sing we a joyful song;
Who has not left thy flock
Without a shepherd long.
O, may the voice
Thy Spirit gave,
O'er Jordan's wave,
Approve our choice.
To him whom thou hast sent
To labor in this field,
Lord, let thine aid be lent,
That so his ground shall yield
A large increase;
And so shall he,
When called to thee,
Depart in peace.

129

“Good Shepherd!” let thy care
To old and young extend;
These in thy bosom bear,
O'er those in pity bend;—
Thy voice alone
We love to hear;
Be ever near,
To guard thine own.
Beside still waters led,
Through pleasant vales that flow,
And in green pastures fed,
May this, thy people, grow
In every grace,
Till all, above,
In light and love,
Behold thy face.

[XI. To thine altar, Holy One]

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Written for the Ordination of Mr. Theodore H. Dorr, as Pastor of the First Congregational Church in Billerica, May 28th, 1839.

MINISTER,
—solo.
To thine altar, Holy One,
Who dost now this temple fill,
As a servant of thy Son,
“Lo, I come to do thy will.”


130

PEOPLE,
—full choir.
Father! let thy servant's prayer
From thine altar rise to thee!
Make his body's health thy care;
Keep his spirit pure and free!

MINISTER.
To this people would I give
What of strength and light is mine;
But, Lord, that their souls may live,
Give them light and strength divine!

PEOPLE.
On our youthful pastor's head
Let thy holy spirit fall!
Send thy blessing with the bread
That he breaketh for us all!

MINISTER.
When my hands that bread shall break,
In thy sight may they be clean!
When my lips for thee shall speak,
Let their truth by thee be seen!

PEOPLE.
And when truth, from lips sincere,
To our listening ears shall come,
May it meet a welcome here!
Give it in our hearts a home.


131

MINISTER.
When my hands no more are spread,
For this people, towards thy throne,
Place a worthier in my stead!
Father, leave them not alone!

PEOPLE.
Father! in that solemn hour,
When his spirit leaves its clay,
Take him, by the Gospel's power,
To his rest in endless day.