Though low­ly here our lot may be,
High work have we to do,
In faith and trust to fol­low Him
Whose lot was low­ly, too.

Our lives, en­riched with gen­tle thoughts
And lov­ing deeds, may be
A stream that still the nob­ler grows,
The near­er to the sea.

To du­ty firm, to con­science true,
However tried and pressed,
In God’s clear sight high work we do,
If we but do our best.

Thus may we make the low­li­est lot
With rays of glo­ry bright;
Thus may we turn a crown of thorns
Into a crown of light.