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!