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the exiled stranger.
In freedom's land a home to find,
He hastens o'er the dark blue sea,
Leaving each youthful joy behind,
And asking only to be free.
He hastens o'er the dark blue sea,
Leaving each youthful joy behind,
And asking only to be free.
And now the blessed tones he hears
Of those soft, soothing Sabbath bells;
And as the shore the vessel nears,
More full and strong the anthem swells.
Of those soft, soothing Sabbath bells;
And as the shore the vessel nears,
More full and strong the anthem swells.
And as he hears the solemn sound,
He leaps with rapture on the shore:
He feels he stands on holy ground;
Feels that his perils all are o'er.
He leaps with rapture on the shore:
He feels he stands on holy ground;
Feels that his perils all are o'er.
And see, amidst the gazing crowd,
Unheeding all, he 's kneeling there:
To the free earth his head is bowed;
His full rapt soul is lost in prayer.
Unheeding all, he 's kneeling there:
To the free earth his head is bowed;
His full rapt soul is lost in prayer.
That prayer shall not be breathed in vain;
Nor vain the sacrifice he made:
There is a Hand will give again
The wreath that 's on his altar laid.
Nor vain the sacrifice he made:
There is a Hand will give again
The wreath that 's on his altar laid.
