765
L. M.
I delight to do thy will, O my God.
Psalm 40:8.
O Lord, thy heavenly grace impart,
And fix my frail, inconstant heart;
Henceforth my chief delight shall be
To dedicate myself to thee,
To thee, my God, to thee.
2 Whate’er pursuits my time employ,
One thought shall fill my soul with joy;
That silent, secret thought shall be,
That all my hopes are fixed on thee,
On thee, my God, on thee.
3 Thy glorious eye pervadeth space;
Thy presence, Lord, fills every place;
And, wheresoe’er my lot may be,
Still shall my spirit cleave to thee,
To thee, my God, to thee.
4 Renouncing every worldly thing,
And safe beneath thy sheltering wing,
My sweetest thought henceforth shall be,
That all I want I find in thee,
In thee, my God, in thee.
J. F. Oberlin.