FAITH OF OUR FATHERS

FAITH

AITH of our fathers! living still In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword; O how our hearts beat high with joy Whene'er we hear that glorious word! Faith of our fathers! holy faith! We will be true to thee till death!

Our fathers, chained in prisons dark,

Were still in heart and conscience free; How sweet would be their children's fate, If they, like them, could die for thee! Faith of our fathers! holy faith! We will be true to thee till death!

Faith of our fathers! we will love

Both friend and foe in all our strife: And preach thee, too, as love knows how, By kindly words and virtuous life:

Faith of our fathers! holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death!

THIS song might well be called the “Thanks

giving Hymn" of the English people. It was written in 1844 by the Rev. Henry Alford, D. D. (London, Oct. 7, 1810—Canterbury, Jan. 12, 1871). He was then dean of Canterbury cathedral, a post which he held until his death. Alford is well known, both as a preacher and a writer. His "Greek Testament" was for many years a standard work. He is also the author of several fine bymns. In English churches this hymn is always sung at the harvest home services, which correspond to our Thanksgiving day gatherings. It has also come into common use in the church services on our national day of praise. It is usually sung to the tune of "St. George," composed by George J. Elvery.

HARVEST HOME

COME,

, ye

thankful people, come,

Raise the song of harvest home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin:
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied:
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest home.

We ourselves are God's own field,
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade, and then the ear;
Then the full corn shall appear;
Lord of harvest! grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take his harvest home;
From his field shall purge away
All that doth offend that day;
Give his angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In his
garner evermore.

DEAN HENRY ALFORD

THE Rev. Gerald Moultrie (London, England, Dec. 31, 1799 — Rugby, Dec. 20, 1874), a graduate of Trinity, Cambridge, and the rector, during the years of his ministry, of Rugby, was the writer of a number of poems of a high literary value and beauty. This processional hymn was published in 1867. It is a good example of the new type of church songs in which service, activity, and the militant ideas are expressed. To the setting of Barnby's tune, "Great Heart," it is sung, as the opening hymn frequently, while it is one of the most popular processionals in university and college services.

THE WARRIOR'S MARCH

WE march, we march to victory,

With the cross of the Lord before us,
With his loving eye looking down from the sky,
And his holy arm spread o'er us.

We come in the might of the Lord of light,
A joyful host to meet him:

And we put to flight the armies of night,
That the sons of the day may greet him.

We march, we march to victory,

With the cross of the Lord before us, With his loving eye looking down from the sky, And his holy arm spread o'er us.

Our sword is the spirit of God on high,

Our helmet is his salvation,

Our banner, the cross of Calvary,

Our watchword, the Incarnation.

And the choir of angels with song awaits
Our march to the golden Zion;

For our captain has broken the brazen gates,
And burst the bars of iron.

Then onward we march, our arms to prove,
With the banner of Christ before us,

With his eye of love looking down from above,
And his holy arm spread o'er us.