From the recesses of a lowly spirit,
Our humble prayer ascends; O Father! hear it,
Upsoaring on the wings of awe and meekness;
Forgive its weakness!
We see Thy hand; it leads us, it supports us:
We hear Thy voice; it counsels and it courts us:
And then we turn away; and still Thy kindness
Forgives our blindness.
O how long-suffering, Lord! but Thou delightest
To win with love the wandering; Thou invitest,
By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Man from his errors.
Father and Saviour! plant within each bosom
The seeds of holiness; and bid them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.
Then place them in Thine everlasting gardens,
Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens;
Where every flower escaped through death’s dark portal,