For every spire whose fin­ger points above,
Calling the soul its God to serve and love,
For ev­ery shrine of wor­ship and of pray­er,
We praise the God who waits to meet us there.
For every soul that’s borne the toil and strife,
And passed vic­to­ri­ous thru the gates of life,
For ev­ery soul that’s in the nar­row way,
We praise the Giv­er of all grace each day.

For wealth of beau­ty ov­er hill and plain,
For ev­ery flow­er that drinks the sun and rain,
Splendor of clouds and stars up­on their course,
We praise the Be­ing who is beau­ty’s source.
For strains of mu­sic that the soul doth thrill,
Instrument, voice, and bird and bee and rill,
Giving ex­pres­sion to the deep­est heart,
We praise the One who mu­sic doth im­part.

For all that calls us from the quest of gain,
For Christ’s com­pas­sion in the hour of pain,
For faith­ful plead­ings of our Spi­rit Guide,
We praise the Friend who’s ev­er at our side.
For bet­ter days, when part­ings are no more,
For rest re­main­ing on a hap­pi­er shore,
Hope of re­un­ion there of friend with friend,
We’ll praise our God in worlds that have no end.