Shine on our souls, eter­nal God,
With rays of beau­ty, shine:
O let Thy fa­vor crown our days,
And all their round be Thine.

Did we not raise our hands to Thee,
Our hands might toil in vain;
Small joy suc­cess it­self could give,
If Thou Thy love re­strain.

With Thee let ev­ery week be­gin,
With Thee each day be spent,
For Thee each fleet­ing hour im­proved,
Since each by Thee is lent.

Thus cheer us through this de­sert road,
Till all our la­bors cease;
And Heav’n re­fresh our wea­ry souls
With ev­er­last­ing peace.