Hymn 271: Thine arm, O Lord, of old

HYMN CCLXXI.

Thine arm, O Lord, of old In lands of desolation, Enclosed an humble fold, 'd a congregation: Our fathers, like a flock, The great, good Shepherd led, Gave water from the rock, With heavenly manna fed.

A poor, afflicted race, But in Thy name confiding, They walk'd before Thy face, Thou in their midst ; While Satan's fellest rage With patient faith they bore; Consumed from age to age, Till known on earth no more.

Yet was a remnant saved; Still wrestling with affliction, Their foes they singly braved, Beneath Thy benediction: Again went forth the word, Abroad the Spirit flew; The voice of God was heard, Creating all things new.

An hundred years are past, Since that glorious; And still Thy Church stands fast, O'er earth and hell victorious; The path our fathers trod, Lay through Gethsemane, Thither, O Lamb of God, This day we follow Thee.

borne to Calvary's brow, Thy griefs and sorrows viewing, With heart, soul, spirit, now Our renewing: Thy love we here record, Our sins with tears bewail; Thy blood pleads for us, Lord; O let that plea prevail.

Through suffering, shame, and loss, Through honour, wealth, and pleasure, To glory in Thy Cross, As our eternal treasure; That Cross with joy to bear Through realms that know Thee not; And thus Thy way prepare, Still be Thy Brethren's lot.