RECESSIONAL
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!