987. L. M. C. Sprague. For the Blessing of Schools.
1 O Thou, at whose dread name we bend,
To whom our purest vows we pay,
God over all, in love descend,
And bless the labors of this day.
2 Our fathers here, a pilgrim band,
Fixed the proud empire of the free;
Art moved in gladness o'er the land,
And Faith her altars reared to thee.
3 Here, too, to guard, through every age,
The sacred rights their valor won,
They bade instruction spread her page,
And send down truth from sire to son.
4 Here still, through all succeeding time,
Their stores may truth and learning bring
And still the anthem-note sublime
To thee from children's children sing.