Peonies, Mirror with Brush and Arise, ye saints, arise and Father of love, our Guide and Friend

  Arise, ye saints, arise!
  The Lord our Leader is;
The foe before his banner flies,
  And victory is his.

  We follow thee, our Guide,
  Our Saviour, and our King;
We follow thee, through grace supplied
  From heaven’s eternal spring.

  We soon shall see the day
  When all our toils shall cease;
When we shall cast our arms away,
  And dwell in endless peace.

  This hope supports us here;
  It makes our burdens light;
‘Twill serve our drooping hearts to cheer,
  Till faith shall end in sight:

  Till, of the prize possessed,
  We hear of war no more;
And ever with our Leader rest,
  On yonder peaceful shore.

Thomas Kelly

  Father of love, our Guide and Friend,
  O lead us gently on,
Until life’s trial time shall end,
  And heavenly peace be won.

  We know not what the path may be
  As yet by us untrod;
But we can trust our all to thee,
  Our Father and our God.

  If called, like Abraham’s child, to climb
  The hill of sacrifice,
Some angel may be there in time;
  Deliverance shall arise:

  Or, if some darker lot be good,
  O teach us to endure
The sorrow, pain, or solitude,
  That makes the spirit pure.

  Christ by no flowery pathway came;
  And we, his followers here,
Must do thy will and praise thy name,
  In hope, and love, and fear.

  And, till in heaven we sinless bow,
  And faultless anthems raise,
O Father, Son, and Spirit now
  Accept our feeble praise.

William J. Irons