And by its light I discern the sand
And rocks along the coast,
And turn away toward a fairer land,
And standing at my post,
I guide my bark thro' the tempest wild,
Borne on by wind and tide,
Till God receives His weak, erring child,
And shelters near His side.
"Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!"
Shines from my star divine,