How bless­èd, from the bonds of sin
And earth­ly fet­ters free,
In sin­gle­ness of heart and aim,
Thy ser­vant, Lord, to be;
The hard­est toil to un­der­take
With joy at Thy com­mand,
The mean­est of­fice to re­ceive
With meek­ness at Thy hand.

With will­ing heart and long­ing eyes
To watch be­fore Thy gate,
Ready to run the wea­ry race,
To bear the hea­vy weight;
No voice of thun­der to ex­pect,
But fol­low calm and still;
For love can ea­si­ly di­vine
The One Be­lov­èd’s will.

Thus may I serve Thee, gra­cious Lord;
Thus ev­er Thine alone,
My soul and body giv­en to Thee,
The pur­chase Thou hast won;
Through ev­il or through good re­port
Still keep­ing by Thy side;
And by my life or by my death
Let Christ be mag­ni­fied.

How hap­pi­ly the work­ing days
In this dear ser­vice fly,
How ra­pid­ly the clos­ing hour,
The time of rest, draws nigh,
When all the faith­ful ga­ther home,
A joy­ful com­pa­ny;
And ev­er where the Mas­ter is
Shall His blest ser­vants be.