O joy­ful life, to live for God,
To feel His pre­sence near;
To feed up­on His pre­cious word,
And seek His face in pray­er;
To count it joy to be un­known,
Unseen by mor­tal eye,
Like flow­ers that bloom for Him alone,
Where none but God is nigh.

My Sav­ior, grant this grace to me,
That I for Thee may live,
And wholly give my­self to Thee,
As Thou for me didst give;
Deliver me from love of praise,
Man’s flat­te­ry or his fear;
Thy glo­ry keep be­fore my gaze,
That naught may charm me here.

In all I do, be this my thought,
My Mas­ter’s smile to gain;
All earth­ly hon­or count as naught,
And naught all earth­ly pain;
O be Thou near when morn­ing breaks,
To fill my soul with praise;
And as the sun his cir­cuit makes,
Shed light on all my ways.

O be Thou near at ev­en­tide,
When night is drawing nigh,
That peace may in my heart abide,
Though darkness veil the sky;
And when my task on earth is done,
O may I die to Thee,
And live where flow­ers im­mor­tal bloom
Through all eter­ni­ty.