O Christ di­vine, up­lift my sight,
That I my nob­ler self may see;
Give strength to the clear, in­ner light
In which my soul doth wor­ship Thee!
The still small voice I wait to hear,
Thrill deep the si­lence, sweet and clear.

Attune my fee­ble, wan­der­ing thought,
That ea­ger ser­vice it may yield;
On ev­er swift­er pin­ions brought,
To la­bor in a vast­er field;
To all hu­ma­ni­ty I’d bring
The trea­sure of Thy love, my king!

Refine and ele­vate my faith
To feel Thee in the small­est things;
O Love su­preme! what fi­nite breath
Speaks joy that from Thy great heart springs;
This hea­ven­ly river of de­light
Flows not be­yond our in­ner sight.

I crave the large­ness of Thy peace,
Which com­fort­eth our earth­ly state;
One note to sound and ne­ver cease,
One will to do, ear­ly and late;
Give me, dear Lord, swift ea­ger­ness,
My lowly, com­mon way to bless.