A hymn to God, Who strong, yet meek,
unfurls the stars, enfolds the weak,
Who asks our best, but loved us first,
and loves us still, despite our worst.

A hymn to Christ, Whose worker's hand
carved life from death, forged rock from sand,
from Whose full heart rich mercies flow,
each gift received, a gift we owe.

A hymn to church, our waking place
to early calls and signs of grace,
where soaring hearts learn thoughtful ways,
and searching minds are led to praise.

The Spirit's hymn, God's song between
what mortals chant, what angels sing,
it lifts our hearts in common bond
with saints still here and saints beyond.

A hymn to love, a song to life,
a family's care in peace and strife.
No sweeter gift, save God alone,
than those whom life has named our own.

A hymn to friends, life's long surprise of
opened doors and widened eyes.
'Round laughing fires of wit and art,
we dance a while, then weep to part.

Let thankful souls, then, go in peace,
run swiftly to a higher feast; God's joy for wine, God's
light for bread. Feast long our hearts at table spread.

Robert Stamps