 | The miscellaneous writings of Henry Ware |  |
259
HYMN,
FOR THE GRADUATING CLASS OF THE DIVINITY SCHOOL,
July, 1842.
Tune, Portuguese Hymn
Farewell, dear scenes of study and devotion,
Shades of the soul, in saintly musing trod;
Where, far from earth, and rude life's vain commotion,
We walked in truth's bright beam,
And drank of faith's pure stream,
And sought a true alliance with the Son of God.
Shades of the soul, in saintly musing trod;
Where, far from earth, and rude life's vain commotion,
We walked in truth's bright beam,
And drank of faith's pure stream,
And sought a true alliance with the Son of God.
Those precious days of preparation ended,
Trembling our steps forsake the cherished sod;
Like Him, on whom the anointing dove descended,
We stand at life's broad gate,
And, looking upward, wait
The unction that shall seal us for the church of God.
Trembling our steps forsake the cherished sod;
Like Him, on whom the anointing dove descended,
We stand at life's broad gate,
And, looking upward, wait
The unction that shall seal us for the church of God.
Sin, sloth, and self, abjured before the altar,
With fresh resolve our pilgrim path we plod;
Help, Lord, from heaven, that ne'er our feet may falter;
But gird our steadfast youth
With boldness, love, and truth,
And fill our trusting bosoms with the peace of God.
With fresh resolve our pilgrim path we plod;
Help, Lord, from heaven, that ne'er our feet may falter;
But gird our steadfast youth
With boldness, love, and truth,
And fill our trusting bosoms with the peace of God.
260
We fear no conflicts with Christ's banner o'er us;
We dread no ill beneath our Shepherd's rod;
His strength and peace, his cross and heaven, before us,
Shall arm our feeble faith,
And quell the darts of death,
And win immortal succor through the grace of God.
We dread no ill beneath our Shepherd's rod;
His strength and peace, his cross and heaven, before us,
Shall arm our feeble faith,
And quell the darts of death,
And win immortal succor through the grace of God.
Glory and honor be to Him forever,
Who aids and cheers us with auspicious nod;
To him be consecrate all high endeavor;
For him all toils be done,
For him all trophies won,
Till grace shall crown our souls before the throne of God.
Who aids and cheers us with auspicious nod;
To him be consecrate all high endeavor;
For him all toils be done,
For him all trophies won,
Till grace shall crown our souls before the throne of God.
| The miscellaneous writings of Henry Ware | |