Читать книгу Second Book of Verse - Field Eugene - Страница 4

FATHER, I cry to Thee!

Round me the billows of battle are pouring,

Round me the thunders of battle are roaring;

Father on high, hear Thou my cry, —

Father, oh, lead Thou me!

Father, oh, lead Thou me!

Lead me, o'er Death and its terrors victorious, —

See, I acknowledge Thy will as all-glorious;

Point Thou the way, lead where it may, —

God, I acknowledge Thee!

God, I acknowledge Thee!

As when the dead leaves of autumn whirl round me,

So, when the horrors of war would confound me,

Laugh I at fear, knowing Thee near, —

Father, oh, bless Thou me!

Father, oh, bless Thou me!

Living or dying, waking or sleeping,

Such as I am, I commit to Thy keeping:

Frail though I be, Lord, bless Thou me!

Father, I worship Thee!

Father, I worship Thee!

Not for the love of the riches that perish,

But for the freedom and justice we cherish,

Stand we or fall, blessing Thee, all —

God, I submit to Thee!

God, I submit to Thee!

Yea, though the terrors of Death pass before me,

Yea, with the darkness of Death stealing o'er me,

Lord, unto Thee bend I the knee, —

Father, I cry to Thee!