Lord, a ves­sel Thou hast fa­shioned,
Not to serve the world we see,
Where the snares of fu­tile pass­ion
Seek to re-en­vel­op me,
But to move in right­eous free­dom,
In the world of my first birth,
By ad­vanc­ing in Thy king­dom
For Thy use up­on the earth.

Wealth and plea­sure gild the mar­riage
Of hell’s words to va­ni­ty—
Binding all the cursed that per­ish;
Lost in dust eter­nal­ly.
Prune in me that which is emp­ty
All that wi­thers as a flow­er.
Grow in me of hea­ven’s plen­ty
Giving in­crease by Thy pow­er.

Thou hast freed us like a spar­row
Reaching to­ward an up­ward goal
Of Thy call­ing, near yet nar­row,
From hell’s chains to heaven’s fold;
Lift my heart to know the voic­es
Of Thy praise in hea­ven sung,
And be­low to count the choic­est
Earthly trea­sures as but dung.

We have died in Thee now ris­en
To the Fa­ther’s throne above
Where our life is firm­ly hid­den
In Thy fel­low­ship of love.
Help my hands be true and ho­ly
And my feet stead­fast and sure,
That my works at Thy ap­pear­ing
Will as gold and jew­els en­dure.