Hymns For Dedication VII

The winds and waves were roaring; The Pilgrims met for prayer; And here, their God adoring, They stood, in open air. When breaking day they greeted, And when its close was calm, The leafless woods repeated The music of their psalm. Not thus, O God, to praise thee, Do we, their children, throng; The temple's arch we raise thee Gives back our choral song. Yet, on the winds, that bore thee Their worship and their prayers, May ours come up before thee From hearts as true as theirs! What have we, Lord, to bind us To this, the Pilgrims' shore!-- Their hill of graves behind us, Their watery way before, The wintry surge, that dashes Against the rocks they trod, Their memory, and their ashes,-- Be thou their guard, O God! We would not, Holy Father, Forsake this hallowed spot, Till on that shore we gather Where graves and griefs are not; The shore where true devotion Shall rear no pillared shrine, And see no other ocean Than that of love divine.