O deign to use me, if it be Thy will,
And my poor heart with love and gladness fill.
If this strange impulse which I feel within
To write this book proceeds, O Lord, from Thee,
Let it not die, nor be defiled by sin,
But let the work from self and sin be free,
And prove a guide to home and bliss above,
And help to fill this warring world with love.
The Master's touch I know it sadly lacks,
And may not please the nice artistic taste