O God, beneath Thy guiding hand
Our exiled fathers crossed the sea;
And when they trod the wintry strand,
With prayer and psalm they worshipped Thee.
Thou heardest, well pleased, the song, the prayer:
Thy blessing came; and still its power
Shall onward, through all ages, bear
The memory of that holy hour.
Laws, freedom, truth and faith in God
Came with those exiles o’er the waves;
And, where their pilgrim feet have trod,
The God they trusted guards their graves.
And here Thy name, O God of love,
Their children’s children still adore,
Till these eternal hills remove,
And spring adorns the earth no more.
