Father, Thou art call­ing,
Calling to us plain­ly;
To the spir­it comes Thy
Loving mes­sage ev­er­more;
Holy One, up­lift us,
Nor for­ev­er vain­ly
Stand call­ing us
And wait­ing at the door.

In the whirl­ing tem­pest
And the storm Thou liv­est,
In the rain, and in the sweet­ness
Of the af­ter­glow;
Summer’s gold­en boun­ty,
Winter’s snow, Thou giv­est,
And bloom­ing mea­dows
Where sweet wa­ters flow.

Clearer still and dear­er
Is Thy voice ap­peal­ing,
Deep with­in the spir­it’s
Secret be­ing speak­ing low:
Enter, O our Fa­ther!
Truth and life re­veal­ing;
From ev­ery ev­il
Free us as we go.

In Thee liv­ing, mov­ing,
Unto Thee up­rear­ing
All the hope and joy­ful­ness
And trust that fill the soul,
Father, we ad­ore Thee,
Asking naught nor fear­ing;
We can­not wan­der
From Thy dear con­trol.