O gra­cious Fa­ther of man­kind,
Our spir­its’ un­seen friend,
High Hea­ven’s Lord, our hearts’ dear guest,
To Thee our pray­ers as­cend.
Thou dost not wait till hu­man speech
Thy gifts di­vine im­plore;
Our dreams, our aims, our work, our lives
Are pray­ers Thou lov­est more.

Thou hear­est these, the good and ill,
Deep bur­ied in each breast;
The secr­et thought, the hid­den plan,
Wrought out or un­ex­pressed.
O cleanse our pray­ers from hu­man dross,
Attune our lives to Thee,
Until we la­bor for those gifts
We ask on bend­ed knee.

Our best is but Thy­self in us,
Our high­est thoughts Thy will;
To hear Thy voice we need but love,
To list­en, and be still.
We would not bend Thy will to ours,
But blend our wills to Thine;
Not beat with cries on Hea­ven’s doors,
But live Thy life di­vine.

Thou seek­est us in love and truth
More than our minds seek Thee;
Through op­en gates Thy pow­er flows in
Like flood tides from the sea.
No more we seek Thee from afar,
Nor ask Thee for a sign,
Content to pray in life and love
And toil, till all are Thine.