Rudyard Kipling, 1897


God of our fathers, known of old --
    Lord of our far-flung battle line --
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
    Dominion over palm and pine --
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget -- lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies --
    The Captains and the Kings depart --
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
    An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget -- lest we forget!

Far-called our navies melt away --
    On dune and headland sinks the fire --
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
    Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget -- lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
    Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe --
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
    Or lesser breeds without the Law --
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget -- lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
    In reeking tube and iron shard --
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
    And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!

Amen.

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This one is annoying because there's too much to hardlink, which makes for a monotonous appearance. I should always have that problem.

Re*ces"sion*al (?), a.

Of or pertaining to recession or withdrawal.

Recessional hymn, a hymn sung in a procession returning from the choir to the robing room.

 

© Webster 1913.