Hymns for Emigrants
Midnight.
Lord , lift my heart to Thee at morn,
For Thou art very near;
Thy voice upon the waves is borne,
Thee in the winds I hear.
The winds and waves that chime all night
When I am dreaming laid
A tune so soothing in its might,
I scarce can be afraid.
And yet 'tis awful music, fraught
With memories scorn'd at home;
And whispereth many a boding thought
Of trial-years to come.
O, Love unseen, we know Thee nigh,
When Ocean rageth most,
Thou bidd'st us come to Thee, and cry
“Lord, save us, we are lost!”
Thou seem'st to sleep that we may pray,
Full deeply dost Thou hide;
Forgotten through the calm clear day,
Nor own'd at even-tide.
But when the darksome gales begin,
The rude waves urge their race,
Man, startled from his sloth and sin,
Seeks out Thine hiding-place.
Well if we pray till Thou awake!
One word, one breath of Thee
Soft silence in the heart will make,
Calm peace upon the sea.
Lord of our homes, and of our graves!
If ever while we lay
Beneath Thy stars, amid Thy waves,
Our souls have learn'd to pray,
Revive that prayer, morn, night, and noon
In city, mine, or dale;
Else will the sounds of earth too soon
O'er the dread Voice prevail.
Help us to sing Thine ocean-song
Each in his home on shore,
The note Thou gav'st do Thou prolong
Through life, and evermore.
Morning Hymn.
S LOWLY the gleaming stars retire,
The eastern heaven is all on fire;
The waves have felt the unrisen sun,
Their matin service is begun.
Lord of the boundless sky and sea,
In loving fear we kneel to Thee,
Fain would we grasp the strong right hand,
Reach'd to Thine own by sea and land,—
The hand that did Thy Saint uphold,
When love had made him overbold;
What time at twilight dawn he stood
Half-sinking in the boisterous flood;
He cried to Thee, and Thou didst save.
So we, Thine ocean-wanderers, crave
Ere the bright flush of morn be o'er,
Thy blessing, Lord, for one day more.
Still onward, as to Southern skies
We spread our sail, new stars arise;
New lights upon the glancing tide,
Fresh hues where pearl and coral hide.
What are they all, but tokens true
Of grace for ever fresh and new:
True tokens of Thine awful love
Around us, Father, and above?
And we would daily, nightly, draw
Nearer to Thee in love and awe;
Till in Love's home we pause at last,
Our anchor in the deep Heaven cast.
The while across the changeful sea
Feeling our way, we cling to Thee,
Unchanging Lord! and Thou dost mark
For each his station in Thine ark.
Still overhead the saving Sign
Streams, and we know that we are Thine.
What course soe'er the vessel take,
The signal of our King we make.
It hallows air and wave: and lo!
The heavens a glorious answer shew.
High and more high through southern skies
We see the unmoving Cross arise.
The Cross on board,—what need we more?
The Cross to welcome us ashore;
What need we more, if hearts be true,
Our voyage safe, our port in view?
If hearts be true: but O, dear Lord,
Which of us all may say the word?
Thy Spirit breathe this day! or we
Shall lose, ere night, ourselves and Thee.
Evening Hymn.
T HE twilight hour is sweet at home,
When sounds from brook and woodland come,
Or old familiar bells, that bring
The memories grave of many a spring.
At such soft times the genial air
Is fragrant with unbidden prayer,
And souls devout their longings pour
By Christmas hearth, or Whitsun bower.
And now upon the twilight sea
How may we choose but kneel to Thee,
While airs of Thine own breathing steal
O'er the hot calm, worn hearts to heal?
Now sails are moist with unseen dews,
Aërial lines of all bright hues
Lie on the level West afar,
And here and there one silent star.
O Lord, our Peace! and may we dare
With voices marred by sin and care,
To break the stillness, and upraise
The song of our unworthy praise?
Yea, as of old Thy Saints at eve
A blessing did of Thee receive,
When o'er the waves they took their way,
Thou to the mountain, Lord, to pray;
So may we trust that our frail bark,
Bearing aloft Thine awful mark,
Ere she began her ocean-race
Had portion in that word of grace.
For why? Thine everlasting Creed
Is ours, to say in time of need;
We waft the Name from coast to coast,
Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost.
Ours too Thy prayer, according well
With Ocean's many voiced swell,
Which close to every ear begins,
Its way beyond all hearing wins.
The surging prow, the flashing wake
Music at hand unwearying make;
Waves upon waves repeat the song,
And through unbounded space prolong.
We say the Prayer our Saviour taught,
As household words with homely thought;
But angels bear it on and on
In all its meaning, to the Throne.
The frailest bark that ploughs the main,
The simplest child may raise the strain;
Heaven, earth, air, seas, will hear the call
“Our Father” harmonizing all.
But, O, that to Thy Prayer and Creed
Thine high Commands we join'd indeed,
Written in heart, on hand engraven;—
Three seals in one of grace and Heaven!
All we have been, forgive, O Lord,
Keep Thou to-night our watch and ward:
Safe may we slumber on the sea,
Thou at the helm, our hearts with Thee!
Lord , lift my heart to Thee at morn,
For Thou art very near;
Thy voice upon the waves is borne,
Thee in the winds I hear.
The winds and waves that chime all night
When I am dreaming laid
A tune so soothing in its might,
I scarce can be afraid.
And yet 'tis awful music, fraught
With memories scorn'd at home;
And whispereth many a boding thought
Of trial-years to come.
O, Love unseen, we know Thee nigh,
When Ocean rageth most,
Thou bidd'st us come to Thee, and cry
“Lord, save us, we are lost!”
Thou seem'st to sleep that we may pray,
Full deeply dost Thou hide;
Forgotten through the calm clear day,
Nor own'd at even-tide.
But when the darksome gales begin,
The rude waves urge their race,
Man, startled from his sloth and sin,
Seeks out Thine hiding-place.
Well if we pray till Thou awake!
One word, one breath of Thee
Soft silence in the heart will make,
Calm peace upon the sea.
Lord of our homes, and of our graves!
If ever while we lay
Beneath Thy stars, amid Thy waves,
Our souls have learn'd to pray,
Revive that prayer, morn, night, and noon
In city, mine, or dale;
Else will the sounds of earth too soon
O'er the dread Voice prevail.
Help us to sing Thine ocean-song
Each in his home on shore,
The note Thou gav'st do Thou prolong
Through life, and evermore.
Morning Hymn.
S LOWLY the gleaming stars retire,
The eastern heaven is all on fire;
The waves have felt the unrisen sun,
Their matin service is begun.
Lord of the boundless sky and sea,
In loving fear we kneel to Thee,
Fain would we grasp the strong right hand,
Reach'd to Thine own by sea and land,—
The hand that did Thy Saint uphold,
When love had made him overbold;
What time at twilight dawn he stood
Half-sinking in the boisterous flood;
He cried to Thee, and Thou didst save.
So we, Thine ocean-wanderers, crave
Ere the bright flush of morn be o'er,
Thy blessing, Lord, for one day more.
Still onward, as to Southern skies
We spread our sail, new stars arise;
New lights upon the glancing tide,
Fresh hues where pearl and coral hide.
What are they all, but tokens true
Of grace for ever fresh and new:
True tokens of Thine awful love
Around us, Father, and above?
And we would daily, nightly, draw
Nearer to Thee in love and awe;
Till in Love's home we pause at last,
Our anchor in the deep Heaven cast.
The while across the changeful sea
Feeling our way, we cling to Thee,
Unchanging Lord! and Thou dost mark
For each his station in Thine ark.
Still overhead the saving Sign
Streams, and we know that we are Thine.
What course soe'er the vessel take,
The signal of our King we make.
It hallows air and wave: and lo!
The heavens a glorious answer shew.
High and more high through southern skies
We see the unmoving Cross arise.
The Cross on board,—what need we more?
The Cross to welcome us ashore;
What need we more, if hearts be true,
Our voyage safe, our port in view?
If hearts be true: but O, dear Lord,
Which of us all may say the word?
Thy Spirit breathe this day! or we
Shall lose, ere night, ourselves and Thee.
Evening Hymn.
T HE twilight hour is sweet at home,
When sounds from brook and woodland come,
Or old familiar bells, that bring
The memories grave of many a spring.
At such soft times the genial air
Is fragrant with unbidden prayer,
And souls devout their longings pour
By Christmas hearth, or Whitsun bower.
And now upon the twilight sea
How may we choose but kneel to Thee,
While airs of Thine own breathing steal
O'er the hot calm, worn hearts to heal?
Now sails are moist with unseen dews,
Aërial lines of all bright hues
Lie on the level West afar,
And here and there one silent star.
O Lord, our Peace! and may we dare
With voices marred by sin and care,
To break the stillness, and upraise
The song of our unworthy praise?
Yea, as of old Thy Saints at eve
A blessing did of Thee receive,
When o'er the waves they took their way,
Thou to the mountain, Lord, to pray;
So may we trust that our frail bark,
Bearing aloft Thine awful mark,
Ere she began her ocean-race
Had portion in that word of grace.
For why? Thine everlasting Creed
Is ours, to say in time of need;
We waft the Name from coast to coast,
Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost.
Ours too Thy prayer, according well
With Ocean's many voiced swell,
Which close to every ear begins,
Its way beyond all hearing wins.
The surging prow, the flashing wake
Music at hand unwearying make;
Waves upon waves repeat the song,
And through unbounded space prolong.
We say the Prayer our Saviour taught,
As household words with homely thought;
But angels bear it on and on
In all its meaning, to the Throne.
The frailest bark that ploughs the main,
The simplest child may raise the strain;
Heaven, earth, air, seas, will hear the call
“Our Father” harmonizing all.
But, O, that to Thy Prayer and Creed
Thine high Commands we join'd indeed,
Written in heart, on hand engraven;—
Three seals in one of grace and Heaven!
All we have been, forgive, O Lord,
Keep Thou to-night our watch and ward:
Safe may we slumber on the sea,
Thou at the helm, our hearts with Thee!
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