1 O Thou, whose presence went before
Our fathers in their weary way,
As with Thy chosen moved of yore
The fire by night, the cloud by day!

2 When, from each temple of the free,
A nation's song ascends to heaven,
Most holy Father, unto Thee
Now let our humble prayer be given.

3 Sweet peace be here; and hope and love
Be round us as a mantle thrown,
As unto Thee, supreme above,
The knee of prayer is bowed alone.

4 And grant, O Father, that the time
Of earth's deliverance may be near,
When every land, and tongue, and clime,
The message of Thy love shall hear; --

5 When, smitten as with fire from heaven,
The captive's chain shall sink in dust,
And to his fettered soul be given
The glorious freedom of the just.