HYMN OF THE TRAVELLER’S HOUSEHOLD ON HIS RETURN,
IN THE OLDEN TIME.
Joy! the lost one is restored!
Sunshine comes to hearth and board.
From the far-off countries old
Of the diamond and red gold;
From the dusky archer-bands,
Roamers of the fiery sands;
From the desert winds, whose breath
Smites with sudden, silent death;
He hath reach’d his home again,
Where we sing
In thy praise a fervent strain,
God our King!
Mightiest! unto thee he turn’d
When the noon-day fiercest burn’d:
When the fountain-springs were far,
And the sounds of Arab war
Swell’d upon the sultry blast,
And the sandy columns past,
Unto thee he cried; and thou,
Merciful! didst hear his vow!
Therefore unto thee again
Joy shall sing
Many a sweet and thankful strain,
God our King!
Thou wert with him on the main,
And the snowy mountain-chain,
And the rivers, dark and wide,
Which through Indian forests glide:
Thou didst guard him from the wrath
Of the lion in his path,
And the arrows on the breeze,
And the dropping poison-trees.
Therefore from our household train
Oft shall spring
Unto thee a blessing strain,
God our King!
Thou to his lone, watching wife
Hast brought back the light of life!
Thou hast spared his loving child
Home to greet him from the wild.
Though the suns of Eastern skies
On his cheek have set their dyes,
Though long toils and sleepless cares
On his brow have blanch’d the hairs,
Yet the night of fear is flown—
He is living, and our own!
Brethren! spread his festal board,
Hang his mantle and his sword,
With the armour, on the wall—
While this long, long silent hall
Joyfully doth hear again
Voice and string
Swell to thee the exulting strain,
God our King!