1 For every spire whose finger points above,
Calling the soul its God to serve and love,
For every shrine of worship and of prayer,
We praise the God who waits to meet us there.
For every soul that’s borne the toil and strife,
And passed victorious thru the gates of life,
For every soul that’s in the narrow way,
We praise the Giver of all grace each day.
2 For wealth of beauty over hill and plain,
For every flower that drinks the sun and rain,
Splendor of clouds and stars upon their course,
We praise the Being who is beauty’s source.
For strains of music that the soul doth thrill,
Instrument, voice, and bird and bee and rill,
Giving expression to the deepest heart,
We praise the One who music doth impart.
3 For all that calls us from the quest of gain,
For Christ’s compassion in the hour of pain,
For faithful pleadings of our Spirit Guide,
We praise the Friend who’s ever at our side.
For better days, when partings are no more,
For rest remaining on a happier shore,
Hope of reunion there of friend with friend,
We’ll praise our God in worlds that have no end.
Display Title: We Praise TheeFirst Line: For every spire whose finger points aboveTune Title: PRETORIAAuthor: Caroline L. L. GoodenoughMeter: 10.10.10.10 DSource: Long, Long Ago on the Farm, and Other Poems (Oberlin, OH: 1912)