1 We come unto our fathers' God;
Their Rock is our Salvation;
The eternal arms, their dear abode,
We make our habitation;
We bring thee, Lord, the praise they brought,
We seek thee as thy saints have sought
In every generation.

2 The fire divine their steps that led
Still goeth bright before us;
The heavenly shield around them spread
Is still high holden o'er us;
The grace those sinners that subdued,
The strength those weaklings that renewed,
Doth vanquish, doth restore us.

3 Their joy unto their Lord we bring;
Their song to us descendeth;
The Spirit who in them did sing
To us his music lendeth:
His song in them, in us, is one;
We raise it high, we send it on,—
The song that never endeth.

4 Ye saints to come, take up the strain,
The same sweet theme endeavour;
Unbroken be the golden chain;
Keep on the song for ever;
Safe in the same dear dwelling-place,
Rich with the same eternal grace,
Bless the same boundless Giver.