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To the Primate Designate.
As full of awe as Death's own awful call,The voice that from thy dear young Western flock
Summons thee to the forefront of the field.
For thine the charge, 'mid darkling cloud and storm,
To hold on high the banner of the Cross,
Rallying the armies of the God of hosts.
Nay, sterner tasks are thine: we summon thee
From strange confusions to elicit peace;
To blend with strength of ancient loyalty
The impetuous forces of swift-rushing days;
To weave the web of old historic power
With woof of newer thoughts and fresher life;
To trace high principle 'mid tangled facts;
To bravely spurn the false, maintain the true.
The Church hath need of thee, thou man of God!
Oh, win the Christless thousands back to her;
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Oh, crown her with a people's generous love!
God make thee wise and strong and brave to guard
Her life, her unity, her liberties!
December 1882.
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