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Thanksgiving Day

424. We come unto our fathers' God

8.7.8.7.8.8.7

To God On High:

Plainsong, 10th cent.;

Adapted, Valten Schumann, 1539;

harm. Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847)

Thomas H. Gill, 1868

We come unto our fathers' God:

Their Rock is our salvation;

The eternal arms, their dear abode,

We make our habitation;

We bring thee, Lord, the praise they brought,

We seek thee as thy saints have sought

In every generation.

The fire divine their steps that led

Still goeth bright before us,

The heavenly shield, around them spread,

Is still high holden o'er us;

The grace those sinners that subdued,

The strength those weaklings that renewed,

Doth vanquish, doth restore us.

386

Their joy unto their Lord we bring,

Their song to us descendeth;

The Spirit who in them did sing

To us his music lendeth:

His song in them, in us, is one;

We raise it high, we send it on--

The song that never endeth.

Ye saints to come, take up the strain,

The same sweet theme endeavour;

Unbroken be the golden chain!

Keep on the song for ever!

Safe in the same dear dwelling-place,

Rich with the same eternal grace,

Bless the same boundless Giver.

Amen.

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