O God of battles, who sustained
Our fathers in the glorious
days
When they our priceless freedom gained,
Help us, as loyal sons, to
raise
Anew the standard they upbore,
And bear it on to farther
heights,
Where freedom seeks for self no more,
But love a life of service
lights.
OUR FATHER
Is God our Father? So sublime the
thought
We cannot hope its meaning
full to grasp,
E’en as the Child the gifts the
wise men brought
Could not within his infant
fingers clasp.
We speak the words from early childhood
taught.
We sometimes fancy that their
truth we feel;
But only on life’s upper heights
is caught
The vital message that they
may reveal.
So on the heights may we be led to dwell,
That nearer God we may more
truly know
How great the heritage His love will tell
If we be lifted up from things
below.
RESURGAM
The stricken city lifts her head,
With eyes yet dim from flowing
tears;
Her heart still throbs with pain unspent,
But hope, triumphant, conquers
fears.
With vision calm, she sees her course,
Nor shrinks, though thorny
be the way.
Shall human will succumb to fate,
Crushed by the happenings
of a day?
The city that we love shall live,
And grow in beauty and in
power;
Her loyal sons shall stand erect,
Their chastened courage Heaven’s
dower.
And when the story shall be told
Of direful ruin, loss, and
dearth,
There shall be said with pride and joy:
“But man survived, and
proved his worth.”
SAN FRANCISCO
O “city loved around the world,”
Triumphant over direful fate,
Thy flag of honor never furled,
Proud guardian of the Golden
Gate;
Hold thou that standard from the dust
Of lower ends or doubtful
gain;
On thy good sword no taint of rust;
On stars and stripes no blot
or stain.
Thy loyal sons by thee shall stand,
Thy highest purpose to uphold;
Proclaim the word, o’er all the
land,
That truth more precious is
than gold.
Let justice never be denied,
Resist the wrong, defend the
right;
Where West meets East stand thou in pride
Of noble life,—a
beacon-light.
THE NEW YEAR
The past is gone beyond recall,
The future kindly veils its
face;
Today we live, today is all
We have or need, our day of
grace.
The world is God’s, and hence ’tis
plain
That only wrong we need to
fear;
’Tis ours to live, come joy or pain,
To make more blessed each
New Year.
PRODIGALS
We tarry in a foreign land,
With pleasure’s husks
elate,
When robe and ring and Father’s
hand
At home our coming wait.