p. 1 | A SWEDISH HYMN

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 1, 1860

A SWEDISH HYMN.

Guardian of pure hearts, and Hearer, Lord, of every faithful prayer, In thy courts one day is dearer, Than a thousand days elsewhere! Worn with earth's unrest, how sweet In thy temple fair to meet— There to sing away each sorrow That from life and toil we borrow!

With the righteous oft it fareth, Here, as if his deeds were ill; Blight fair virtue's flowers impaireth, Weeds of vice do flourish still; Joy and fortune haste away, Friends with friends—how short their stay! Rachel still her children mourneth, Still her soul from comfort turneth!

But when here devoutly soareth High the temple-anthem sweet, Grief grows calm, no plaint outpoureth— Hearts with holy rapture beat! Freed from earthly clogs, the soul Presses toward a higher goal, Takes from hope the comfort given, Speaks even now the tongue of heaven.

O my soul, thy wing ascending Yet on Salem's mount shall rest— There where cherub-harps are blending With the singing of the blest! Let thy note of praise and prayer To thy God precede thee there, While even yet a care-worn mortal, Still without thy Father's portal!

Days are dawning, days are flying! Hold thou fast the word of God— "Lantern to my feet," still crying, "Light of all my dreary road!" Joy thou in that holy word Which of old on earth was heard, For man's peace and comfort given, Only guide from earth to heaven.

Let us, Christians, here that wander, As our fathers in their day, Piously together ponder, Gladly sing, and meekly pray. Be the children's voices raised To the God their fathers praised. Let thy bounty, failing never, Be on us and all for ever.

Bless us, Father, and protect us, Be our soul's sure hiding-place, Let thy wisdom still direct us, Light our darkness with thy grace! Let thy countenance on us shine, Fill us all with peace divine, Praise the Father, Son, and Spirit, Praise Him, all that life inherit!