We are the child­ren of the church,
Our mo­thers reared by pray­er;
The church our fa­thers for­ti­fied,
By faith and man­ly care.

Refrain

Our fa­thers’ church—our mo­thers’ church—
Is just the church for me;
Our fa­thers’ church—our mo­thers’ church—
Mine ev­er­more shall be.

Strong are its mass­ive gates and wide,
Its walls a tow­er­ing pile;
Alike im­preg­na­ble to all
Who would its courts de­file.

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Numerous its peo­ple as the stars,
As pledged in days of old;
And will be as the count­less sand,
A num­ber yet un­told.

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And stirred it is by lof­ty aims,
Of love to­ward man and God,
And will be till the world ac­cepts
Messiah’s staff and rod.

Refrain

How glo­ri­ous then, this he­rit­age,
Burdened with sto­ried wealth,
Enriching us and all man­kind
With life, and peace, and health.

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As ga­thered on the Child­ren’s Day
We at its al­tars vow,
To mark its bul­warks, tell its tow­ers,
And hold our place as now.

Refrain