Father, as we bend the knee,
May we feel thy presence nigh,
--Nothing 'twixt our souls and thee!

We are weary,--cares and woes
Lay their weight on every breast,
And each heart before thee knows,
That it sighs for inward rest.

Thou canst lift this weight away,
Thou canst bid these sighings cease;
Thou canst walk these waves and say
To their restless tossings--"Peace!"

We are tempted;--snares abound,--
Sin its treacherous meshes weaves;
And temptations strew us round,
Thicker than the Autumn leaves.

Midst these perils, mark our path,
Thou who art 'the life, the way;'
Rend each fatal wile that hath
Power to lead our souls astray.

Prince of Peace! we follow Thee!
Plant thy banner in our sight;
Let thy shadowy legions be
Guards around our tents to-night."

Through the aisles of the forest, far-stretching and dim