O God, beneath Thy guiding hand
Our exiled fathers crossed the sea;
And when they trod the wintry strand,
With prayer and psalm they worshiped Thee.
Thou heard’st well pleased, the song, the prayer:
Thy blessing came; and still its power
Shall onward, through all ages, bear
The memory of that holy hour.
Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God
Came with those exiles o’er the waves;
And where their pilgrim feet have trod,
The God they trusted guards their graves.
And here Thy Name, O God of love,
Their children’s children shall adore,
Till these eternal hills remove,
And spring adorns the earth no more.
~Leonard Bacon (American, 1833)
Tune: Duke Street