Lo! I come with joy to do
The Mas­ter’s bless­èd will,
Him in out­ward works pur­sue,
And serve His plea­sure still;
Faithful to my Lord’s com­mands,
I still would choose the bet­ter part:
Serve with care­ful Mar­tha’s hands,
And hum­ble Ma­ry’s heart.

Careful, with­out care I am,
Nor feel my hap­py toil,
Kept in peace by Je­su’s name,
Supported by His smile;
Joyful thus my faith to show,
I find His ser­vice my re­ward;
Every work I do be­low,
I do it to the Lord.

Thou, O Lord, in ten­der love
Dost all my bur­dens bear,
Lift my heart to things above,
And fix it ev­er there:
Calm on tu­mult’s wheel I sit,
’Midst bu­sy mul­ti­tudes, alone,
Sweetly wait­ing at Thy feet,
Till all Thy will be done.

To the de­sert, or the cell,
Let oth­ers blind­ly fly,
In this ev­il world I dwell,
Unhurt, un­spot­ted, I:
Here I find a house of pray­er,
To which I in­ward­ly re­tire,
Walking un­con­cerned in care,
And un­con­sumed in fire.

Thou, O Lord, my por­tion art,
Before I hence re­move!
Now my trea­sure and my heart
Are all laid up above;
Far above these earth­ly things
(While yet my hands are here em­ployed)
Sees my soul the King of kings
And free­ly talks with God.

O that all the art might know,
Of liv­ing thus to Thee:
Find their Heav’n be­gun be­low,
And here Thy good­ness see:
Walk in all the works pre­pared
By Thee to ex­er­cise their grace,
Till they gain their full re­ward,
And see Thy glo­ri­ous face.