The Same.
1 We gather in the name of God,
And, bowing down the head,
We stretch our waiting hands abroad,
And humbly ask for aid:
For aid, when o'er the spirit's day,
Thick clouds of darkness rest,
That we may chase the gloom away,
And light the darkened breast.
2 For strength to lead the poor, the weak
Who tread the vale of years,--
For pity's hand to dry the cheek
Where sorrow sits in tears;
For hope, the beautiful and bright,
That whispers, "Ne'er despond!"
For faith, that through the darkest night
Still sees a star beyond.
3 Bold heralds of the cross, O God,
Undaunted send us forth;
Salvation be our rallying word,--
Our field, the boundless earth;
Love on our lips, and in our soul,
Our labors never done;
O Sovereign Helper! till the goal
By all at last be won.