843. C. M. C. Sprague.

The Pilgrims.

1Our fathers, Lord, to seek a spot

Where they might kneel to thee,

Their own fair heritage forgot,

And braved an unknown sea.

2Here found their pilgrim souls repose

Where long the heathen roved;

And here their humble anthems rose

To bless the Power they loved.

3They sleep in dust,--but where they trod,

A feeble, fainting band,

Glad millions catch the strain, O God,

And sound it through the land.

Anniversary Hymn.

1God of mercy, do thou never

From our offering turn away,

But command a blessing ever

On the memory of this day.

2Light and peace do thou ordain it;

O'er it be no shadow flung,

Let no deadly darkness stain it,

And no clouds be o'er it hung.

3May the song this people raises,

And its vows to thee addressed,

Mingle with the prayers and praises,

That thou hearest from the blest.

4When the lips are cold that sing thee,

And the hearts that love thee dust,

Father, then our souls shall bring thee

Holier love and firmer trust.