Guard her army and her navy, Citadel and fleet, Vanquish all her foes, we pray thee, Lord, if it be meet. May she ever be sustained In her darkest hour; Grant that peace be e’er maintained By Thy grace and power. Hark! the grand refrain is swelling, Thrilling every ear; Lord of hosts, within Thy dwelling Holy Spirit, hear. Though earth’s empires all must crumble, Suns and systems wane, In magnificence, yet humble, Long may Austral reign. I KNOW NOT. I know not if my future years will be With sorrow crowned, Or if in solitude unknown to thee I may be bound. I know not, if, as down life’s stream I float With look divine, Some other hand will guide my fragile boat Better than mine. I know not, when right out of sight of port, High on the crest, Of raging billows which I vainly fought I shall find rest. I know not if dear spirit friends of yore Will hear my voice, And when they meet me safe upon yon shore They will rejoice. But this I know that He, my Lord, will stand With glance of love And hand stretched out to lead me o’er the strand To Heaven above. MOBILITE. I sought the fragrance of the roses’ breath, Bending beneath their burden of sweet dew; How could I reconcile the thought of death With blooms, which in such matchless beauty grew? I sought the lily, pure as a pale bride, So stately with its waxen petals wet, Green-stemmed and slender, and it gently sighed “Yet a few days and all my sun is set.” I sought the woods wherein the whispering wind Chanted a lullaby into my listening ear, And faintly came an echoing voice behind, “E’en as the leaves I change and disappear.” I sought old ocean with its ceaseless moan, Flinging white clinging arms of spumy spray To grasp the shore, then in a solemn tone It made reply, “I too must pass away.” I sought the stars which in their orbits sway, And just as day obscures their brilliant light, The star of faith, though doubt may cloud the way, Illumes with fervent glow the mists of night. Oh! earth. Oh! heaven. Oh! death, which is but life. That still small voice within doth ever say, Here for a season set amid the strife, Live thou thy best--for all must pass away. Passing away where crowns and sceptred right, Kings, lowly, meekly lay before the Throne, And saints with creeds, and sinners, in the light Of God’s great dawn, will worship Him alone. MUSIC.