William H. Westcott
Tune-723 Bristol Tune Book.
Father, in days gone by
Thy people sought
Thy face, Longing that souls might be
Reached by Thy saving grace.
Thou gav’st the answer then,
In blessing far and near;
Saving the souls of men
From sin and guilt and fear.
Father, save!
Bowing together here,
Thy people of today,
Thou dost, in Jesu’s name,
Drive unbelief away.
Faith’s holy confidence
Is resting now on Thee;
O Thou that hearest prayer,
We would Thy blessing see.
Father, save!
Think of those distant lands,
Where lived Thy saints of old;
Let Naaman’s leprous home
Again of grace be told.
Let Israel’s captive souls
Hear of Thy gospel free;
And Zion’s hills resound
With songs of liberty.
Father, save!
Let Egypt’s ebbing grace,
As tidal waters turn;
Nor let her rulers now
Thy gracious dealing spurn:
Let Pharaoh’s starving land
Again her Joseph see,
In Jesus who has died,
And risen again to Thee.
Father, save!
Down Eden’s valleys, Lord,
Let living waters flow:
And Adam’s fallen race
Thy full salvation know;
And ‘midst the thorny woes,
Euphrates knows so well,
May those who know its balm
The Savior’s mercy tell.
Father, save!
And, oh! not there alone,
But far across the wave,
How China’s plaint awakes,
The prayer that Thou wilt save!
Her millions passing on,
Approach a fearful end;
O God! stretch forth Thine hands,
And mighty blessing send!
Father, save!
But how the heart grows faint,
And then o’erflows in grief,
Thinking of India’s sons,
So long without relief;
While Africa’s weary hosts,
Down-trodden and oppressed,
Seem silently to stand,
Yearning for heavenly rest.
Father, save!
Let all our hearts arise,
Alive with heavenly glow;
Moved by Thy Spirit, Lord,
With love’s deep stream to flow;
And if in foreign lands,
Or this, Thou bid’st us roam,
Oh! for Thy mighty power,
To call Thy wanderers home.
Father, save!