  IN THE MORNING.BACK from battle, torn and rent, Listing bridge and stanchions bent By the angry sea. By Thy guiding mercy sent, Fruitful was the road we went— Back from battle we. If Thou hadst not been, O Lord, behind our feeble arm, If Thy hand had not been there to slam the lyddite home, When against us men arose and sought to work us harm, We had gone to death, O Lord, in spouting rings of foam. Heaving sea and cloudy sky Saw the battle flashing by As Thy foemen ran. By Thy grace, that made them fly, We have seen two hundred die Since the fight began. If our cause had not been Thine, for Thy eternal Right, If the foe in place of us had fought for Thee, O Lord! If Thou hadst not guided us and drawn us there to fight, We never should have closed with them—Thy seas are dark and broad. Through the iron rain they fled, Bearing home the tale of dead, Flying from Thy sword. After-hatch to fo'c'sle head, We have turned their decks to red, By Thy help, O Lord! It was not by our feeble sword that they were overthrown, But Thy right hand that dashed them down, the servants of the proud; It was not arm of ours that saved, but Thine, O Lord, alone, When down the line the guns began, and sang Thy praise aloud. Sixty miles of running fight, Finished at the dawning light, Off the Zuider Zee. Thou that helped throughout the night Weary hand and aching sight, Praise, O Lord, to Thee. |
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