Two hundred years have passed five generations gone, since from these pipes were sounded first the notes which still play on; earth's history lives and dies through passing earls and kings, while wise and foolish fall or rise Christ's congregation sings! Two thousand years have flown since one small handful met, on fire to make the gospel known, by hostile powers beset; like them we long to serve a people on the move, to share our faith, to keep our nerve, and never fail to love. One all-embracing death, one high-uplifted Lord, one rushing wind, one quickening breath, one life renewed, restored - this life, please God, be ours, the Holy Spirit given; so every voice with all our powers shall tune our hearts to heaven. With every note we use and every stop in turn, an instruments we sound the news that needs no skill to learn; when Christ still calls the tune what Harmony there is! ascended once, returning soon, the great Amen is his!