For all Thy care we bless Thee,
O Fa­ther, God of might!
For gold­en hours of morn­ing,
And qui­et hours of night!
Thine is the arm that shields us
When dan­ger threat­ens nigh,
And Thine the hand that yields us
Rich gifts of earth and sky.

For all Thy love we bless Thee;
No mor­tal lips can speak
Thy com­fort to the wea­ry,
Thy pity for the weak:
By Thee life’s path is bright­ened,
With sun­shine and with song,
And hea­vy loads are light­ened,

For all Thy truth we bless Thee;
Our hu­man vows are frail,
But through the strife of ages
Thy Word can ne­ver fail;
The king­doms shall be brok­en,
The migh­ty ones will fall,
The pro­mise Thou hast spok­en
Shall tri­umph over all.

O teach us how to praise Thee,
And touch our lips with fire!
Yea, let Thy Dove des­cend­ing,
Our hearts and minds in­spire;
Thus toil­ing, watch­ing, sing­ing,
We tread our on­ward way,
And ev­ery hour is bring­ing
Nearer the dawn of day.