To Thee, O Lord, we lift the voice,
On Thee our souls rely;
Thou to the objects of Thy choice
No good thing wilt deny.
Thou who hast died to set us free
From the oppressor strong,
That to Thy pleasure we might be
Lights through this darkness long,
Wilt not to our request for light
Turn a regardless ear;
Trackless our way, dark this blind night,
Venomed the atmosphere.
Our feeble feet have weary grown,
The path that Thine have pressed
We trembling tread, despised and lone
The highway into rest
Yet, Lord, the trials of the way,
Through Thy compassions kind,
Bring our proud spirits under sway
To Thine unerring mind.
And thus the highway to the goal,
Shining upon our hearts,
Instruction for the thoughtful soul
Through grace Divine imparts.
And to pursue that path aright
All heavenly grace we need,
And must, lest we lack needful light,
To Thy sure Word take heed
Then give us perfect confidence
In Thy most perfect Word,
And let Thy living voice from thence
Within our souls be heard.
Let not our faltering footsteps shun
The journey of the soul,
Nor let us halt, till we have won
The empyrean goal.
With mercy and with grace combined
Our fainting spirits meet,
And let us on our journey find
The impress of Thy feet.
Search us, and know our inmost hearts,
Our souls illuminate,
And lead us by Thy love apart
From byways maculate.