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.
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.