We come un­to our fa­thers’ God,
Their rock is our sal­va­tion;
Th’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.

The cleav­ing sins that brought them low
Are still our souls op­press­ing.
The tears that from their eyes did flow
Fall fast, our shame con­fess­ing;
As with Thee, Lord, pre­vailed their cry,
So our strong pray­er as­cends on high
And bring­eth down Thy bless­ing.

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 en­dea­vor;
Unbroken be the gold­en chain!
Keep on the song for­ev­er!
Safe in the same dear dwell­ing place,
Rich with the same eter­nal grace,
Bless the same bound­less giv­er.