95

I

Often thy public means of grace,
Thy thirsty people’s wat’ring-place,
The archers have beset;
Attack’d them in thy house of pray’r,
To prison dragg’d, or to the bar,
When thus together met.

II

But we from such assaults are freed,
Can pray and sing and hear and read,
And meet and part in peace:
May we our privileges prize,
In their improvement make us wise,
And bless us with increase.

III

Unless thy presence thou afford,
Unless thy blessing clothe the word,
In vain our liberty!
What would it profit to maintain
A name for life, should we remain
Formal and dead to thee?