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| 1 The Sunday bells are calling Away from street and home; Once more to thee, O Father, With thankful hearts we come; For all thy countless blessings We praise thy holy name, And own thy love unchanging, Thro’ days and years the same. 2 For life and health and shelter, Thou sendst us night and day, The kindness of our teachers, The gladness of our play; For all the dear affection Of parents, brothers, friends, To him our thanks we render, Who these and all things sends. 3 Thanks, too, for shame and sorrow Whene’er we choose the wrongs; For bright and happy spirits ‘Mid duty brave and strong; For the sweet hope of heaven That meets us at the last, When earthly tasks are ended And earthly days are past. | Worship and Song. (Rev. ed.) #12 (1921) |
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