1 The flush of morn—the setting suns
Have told their glories o’er and o’er;
One rounded year, since, heart to heart,
We stood with Jesus by the door.
2 We heard his wond’rous voice; we touched
His garment’s hem with reverent hand;
Then at his word went forth to preach
His coming kingdom in the land.
3 And following him, some willing feet
The way to Emmaus have trod;
And some stand on the Orient plains;
And some upon the mount of God!
4 While over all, and under all,
The Master’s eye, the Master’s arm,
Have led in paths we have not known,
Yet kept us from the touch of harm.
5 One year of golden days and deeds
Of gracious growth, of service sweet;
And now, beside the shore again,
We gather at the Master’s feet.
6 “Blest be the tie that binds,” we sing;
Yet to the bending blue above
We look, beyond the face of friends,
To mark the coming of the Dove.
7 Descend upon us as we wait
With open heart—with open word
Breathe on us, mystic Paraclete!
Breathe on us, Spirit of the Lord!
Copyright by J. H. Vincent.