Thou to whom we lift our eyes.
Father, help our souls to rise,
And, beyond these narrow skies,
See thee as thou art!
Let our anxious thoughts be still,
Holy trust adore thy will,
Holy love our bosoms fill,
Let our songs ascend!
Dearest friends may parted be,
All our earthly treasures flee,
Yet we never part from thee,
Our eternal Friend.
["I WILL ARISE AND GO TO MY FATHER."]
Help me, O God, to trust in thee,
Thou high and holy One!
And may my troubled spirit flee
For rest to thee alone.
In thee alone the soul can find
Secure and sweet repose;
And thou canst bid the desert mind
To blossom as the rose.
Let not this spirit, formed to rise
Where angels claim their birth,
Forsake its home beyond the skies,
And cling to barren earth.
The bird of passage knows the sign
That warns him to depart;
Shall I not heed the voice divine,
That whispers in my heart,—
"Up! plume thy wings, soar far away!
No longer idly roam!
Fly to the realms of endless day;
For this is not thy home."
This still, small voice, O, may I hear!
Ere clouds and darkness come,
And thunders in my startled ear
Proclaim my final doom.