Oh, God of mercy, hear us,
As we ask a boon for Thee,
For poor and penniless brethren
Dispersed over land and sea.

Poor and penniless brethren,
Ah, in the Master's sight,
We all lay claim to the title
On this, our festival night.
Lone pilgrims journeying on
Towards light that points above,
Treading the chequered earthworks
Till we reach the land of love.

Work up to the landmark, brothers,
We shall not always stay,
The falling shadows warn us
To work in the light of day.
How often our footsteps turn
Where a brother's form is hid,
Oft we cast evergreen sprigs
On a brother's coffin lid.

Thou, who dost give to each
Some appointed post to hold,
Teach us to cherish the weak,
To give Thy silver and gold;
To guard as a soldier guards
Honor and Love's pure shrine,
To give our lives for others,