Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/131

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The royal eagle darteth On his quarry from the heights, And the stag that knows no master, Seeks there his wild delights; But we, for thy communion, Have sought the mountain sod; For the strength of the hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers' God!

The banner of the chieftain, Far, far below us waves; The war-horse of the spearman Cannot reach our lofty caves: Thy dark clouds wrap the threshold Of freedom's last abode; For the strength of the hills we bless thee, Our God, our fathers' God!