Every incense at Thy shrine;
These,—and all life’s holiest things,
And its fairest,—all are Thine.
3 And for all, my hymns shall rise
Daily to Thy gracious throne:
Thither let my asking eyes
Turn unwearied, righteous One!
Through life’s strange vicissitude
There reposing all my care;
Trusting still, through ill and good,