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O Father, we thank thee
for Jesus thy Son,
For all that for us
by his death he hath won,
His rising at Easter,
his reign on thy throne,
His gift of the Spirit
to make us thine own.
All praise to thee, Lord,
for evangelists brave,
The witness by word
and by life that they gave,
The Church of our fathers,
the home of us all,
Her sturdy grey towers
and steeples so tall.
All praise for the masons
who built them so true
With axe and with chisel,
the best that they knew;
All praise for the craftsmen
who carved with a will,
The nave and the chancel
with glory to fill.
How surely they painted,
those guildsmen of old,
The screen with its martyrs
aglimmer with gold!
How fair shone their windows
which let the sun through,
And flecked the white pillars
with crimson and blue!
Then ring out, ye belfries,
from hill and from plain,
And thunder, ye organs,
in deep-toned refrain:
Praise God, priest and people,
for blessings outpoured
On Britain, our homeland.
Yes, praise ye the Lord!
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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11 11 11 11
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1937
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1950 | # 441 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
