“Thou Lord of Hosts, Whose Guiding Hands”


Thou Lord of Hosts, whose guiding hand
Hast brought us here, before Thy face,
Our spirits wait for Thy command,
Our silent hearts implore Thy peace!

Those spirits lay their noblest powers,
As offerings, on Thy holy shrine;
Thine was the strength that nourished ours;
The children of the cross are Thine.

While watching on our arms, at night,
We saw Thine angels round us move:
We heard Thy call, we felt Thy light,
And followed, trusting to Thy love.

Send us where’er Thou wilt, O Lord,
Through rugged toil and wearying fight;
Thy conquering love shall be our sword,
And faith in Thee our truest might.

Send down Thy constant aid, we pray;
Be Thy pure angels with us still;
Thy truth, be that our firmest stay;
Our only rest, to do Thy will.


Words: Octavius B. Frothingham, 1846.

Image Credit: ‘Bluebell Path,’ Annabell Greenhalgh



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