O GOD! in danger's darkest hour, In battle's deadliest field, Thy name has been our Nation's tower, Thy truth her help and shield. Our lips should fill the air with praise, Nor pay the debt we owe, So high above the songs we raise The floods of mercy flow. Yet Thou wilt hear the prayer we speak, The song of praise we sing, -- Thy children, who thine altar seek Their grateful gifts to bring. Thine altar is the sufferer's bed, The home of woe and pain, The soldier's turfy pillow, red With battle's crimson rain. No smoke of burning stains the air, No incense-clouds arise; Thy peaceful servants, Lord, prepare A bloodless sacrifice. Lo! for our wounded brothers' need, We bear the wine and oil; For us they faint, for us they bleed, For them our gracious toil! O Father, bless the gifts we bring! Cause Thou thy face to shine, Till every nation owns her King, And all the earth is thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR THE FALLEN (SEPTEMBER 1914) by LAURENCE BINYON THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (B) by WILLIAM BLAKE THE THREE WARNINGS by HESTER LYNCH (SALUSBURY) PIOZZI THE LOVE OF GOD by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY HEREAFTER by RONALD LEWIS CARTON BUGLE SONG OF PEACE; A PROPHECY FOR MEMORIAL DAY by THOMAS CURTIS CLARK |