Blind to the guerdon Thou dost bid me win,
Bring Thou me back, by Love's sweet discipline,
Into thy hands.
Into Thy healing hands;
No hurt of soul or body long enthralls,
The bruiséd heart that for thy succor calls
When, far from doubting as from fear, it falls
Into thy hands.
Into thy saving hands:
Despite assoil, infirmity, mistake,