Father di­vine, I come to Thee,
I yield, a cap­tive, to Thy sway,
That love’s gold chain may set me free
For all the bur­den of the day.

I come not to avoid my care,
I come not to de­sert the strife;
I come to seek new strength to bear,
I fly to find new pow­er for life.

Many there be that seek Thy face
To meet the hour of part­ing breath,
But ’tis for earth I need Thy grace—
Life is more so­lemn still than death.

When morn­ing gilds the porch of day,
I feel so vile amid the glow
That I should faint, didst Thou not say,
I make thee whit­er than the snow!

When noon­tide brings its work to all,
I find my task so hard to be,
That I should sink, didst Thou not call,
My strength is per­fect­ed in thee!

When dark­ness leads the world to rest,
The si­lent bur­den of the night
Would crush, but for Thy mes­sage blest,
At ev­en­ing time there shall be light!

Oh, may these streams of gold­en light
To all my de­sert way be given,
Till faith it­self is lost in sight,
And days on earth be days of Hea­ven.