O gift of gifts! O grace of faith!
My God, how can it be
That Thou, who hast dis­cern­ing love
Shouldst give that gift to me?

How many hearts Thou mightst have had
More in­no­cent than mine,
How ma­ny souls more wor­thy far
Of that sweet touch of Thine!

Ah, grace, un­to un­like­li­est hearts
It is thy boast to come;
The glo­ry of thy light to find
In dark­est spots a home.

How can they live, how will they die,
How bear the cross of grief,
Who have not yet the light of faith,
The cour­age of be­lief?

The crowd of cares, the weight­ie­st cross,
Seems tri­fles less than light:
Earth looks so lit­tle and so low
When faith shines full and bright.

O hap­py, hap­py that I am!
If thou canst be, O faith,
The trea­sure that thou art in life,
What will thou be in death?