Lord, in thy name thy servants plead
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Lord, in thy name thy servants plead, And thou hast sworn to hear: Thine is the harvest, thine the seed, The fresh and fading year. Our hope, when autumn winds blew wild, We trusted, Lord, in thee; And still, now spring has on us smiled, We wait on thy decree. The former and the latter rain, The summer sun and air, The green ear, and the golden grain, All thine, are ours by prayer. Thine too by right, and ours by grace, The wondrous growth unseen, The hopes that soothe, the fears that brace, The love that shines serene. So grant the precious things brought forth By sun and moon below, That thee in thy new heaven and earth We never may forgo. |
Qui nobis invocatus es, es sponsus opifer: sunt tua semen et seges, autumnus atque ver. Ferox tibi fidentibus autumnus incidit, et nunc ad te suspicimus, ut ver reniduit. Tuae sunt ambae pluviae, aestiva claritas, spicae maturae seu novae; precantibusque das. Quae tua sunt, augmenta tu interiora dans, spe molliens, firmas metu, sereniter amans. Sic sol te dante lunaque hic praebeant opes ut mundo tu perpetue sis in novo comes. |