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| I Lord of a countless throng, Fair as the stars of night, Won from the thrall of cruel wrong Back to the good and right; Thine is the praise they sing, Lord of their souls, and King. II Thine was the love that sought Far as their wanderings led; Thine was the wondrous grace that brought Life to the faint and dead; Pardon for all the past, Peace that shall endless last. III Lord of a countless throng Sworn to be faithful aye, When, in the power that makes them strong, They stand in evil day; Make us by grace, we pray, Loyal and brave as they. | Hymns from the Morningland #54 (1911) |
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