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Thee We Praise.

BY G. RUSSELL.
TUNE — Mendon.

God of our fathers! Thee we praise;
Today, our grateful thanks ascend:
Accept these thanks — our cheerful lays
With organ's solemn chantings blend.

Thy grace the wretched drunkard found,
Cast out, and weltering in his blood;
Now from his tongue doth praise resound —
He owes that praise to thee, O God!

Restored to virtue by thy hand,
The father, brother, son, arise;
From sin and woe reclaimed, they stand,
And swell thy praise with tearful eyes.

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The mother, sister, daughter, too,
With tears of gratitude and praise,
Behold the change, and now, anew,
Receive their friends to their embrace.

No longer poverty and shame —
A sad inheritance — are theirs;
Their altered looks aloud proclaim
A happy change in their affairs.