Dear Lord, who sought at dawn of day,
The so­li­ta­ry woods to pray,
In qui­et­ness we come to ask
Thy guid­ance for the dai­ly task.

O Mas­ter, who with kind­ly face
At noon­day trod the mar­ket­place,
We crave a bro­ther’s smile and song,
While ming­ling with the lone­ly throng.

Thou wear­ied Christ, at ev­en­tide
Communing on the mount­ain­side,
In mys­tic still­ness now we seek
Thy pre­sence for the com­ing week.

Strong Pi­lot, who at mid­night hour
Could calm the sea with gen­tle pow­er,
Grant us the skill to aid the bark
Of those who drift in storm and dark.