The National Prayer

From our aisles of places holy,
From our dwellings calm and lowly,
On the autumn breezes slowly
Swells the sound of prayer:
God! before thy footstool bending —
Anxious crowds their heart-wish blending,
To thine heaven their vows are sending —
Make our Queen thy care!

Brighter than our pomp and pleasure,
Precious above every treasure,
Dear beyond all human measure,
Is that life we love:
Saviour, slumbering not nor sleeping,
But thy watch in danger keeping,
Hear our prayer, receive our weeping —
Guard her from above!