O Thou dread Power, who reign’st above,
I know thou wilt me hear,
When for this scene of peace and love,
I make this prayer sincere.
The hoary Sire-the mortal stroke,
Long, long be pleas’d to spare;
To bless this little filial flock,
And show what good men are.
She, who her lovely offspring eyes
With tender hopes and fears,
O bless her with a mother’s joys,
Butspare a mother’s tears!
Their hope, their stay, their darling youth.
In manhood’s dawning blush,
Bless him, Thou God of love and truth,
Up to a parent’s wish.
The beauteous, seraph sister-band-
With earnest tears I pray-
Thou know’st the snares on ev’ry hand,
Guide Thou their steps alway.
When, soon orlate, they reach that coast,
O’er Life’s rough ocean driven,
May they rejoice, nowand’rer lost,
A family in Heaven!