Often thy public means of grace,

Thy thirsty people’s wat’ring place,

The archers have beset;

Attacked them in thy house of prayer,

To prison dragged, or to the bar,

When thus together met.

But we from such assaults are freed,

Can pray, and sing, and hear, and read,

And meet, and part, in peace:

May we our privileges prize,

In their improvement make us wise,

And bless us with increase.

Unless thy presence thou afford;

Unless thy blessing clothe the word,

In vain our liberty!

What would it profit to maintain

A name for life, should we remain

Formal and dead to thee?