The living soul which I call me
Doth love, and long to know;
It is a thought of living thee,
Nor forth of thee can go.
Therefore I choose my highest part,
And turn my face to thee;
Therefore I stir my inmost heart
To worship fervently.
Lord, let me live and will this day—
Keep rising from the dead;
Lord, make my spirit good and gay—
Give me my daily bread.
Within my heart, speak, Lord, speak on,
My heart alive to keep,
Till comes the night, and, labour done,
In thee I fall asleep.
NOONTIDE HYMN.
I love thy skies, thy sunny mists,
Thy fields, thy mountains hoar,
Thy wind that bloweth where it lists—
Thy will, I love it more.
I love thy hidden truth to seek
All round, in sea, on shore;
The arts whereby like gods we speak—
Thy will to me is more.
I love thy men and women, Lord,
The children round thy door;
Calm thoughts that inward strength afford—
Thy will than these is more.
But when thy will my life doth hold
Thine to the very core,
The world, which that same will doth mould,
I love, then, ten times more!