1 O God, Thy patience moves my soul
To see in Thee the way of life;
Thy purpose an unfolding scroll
Of changes all with meaning rife.
Thy way is sure, with measured beat,
The ages follow, one by one;
The world grows slowly in the heat
Of strife that welds good labors done.
2 O life, thou too must sow and wait;
Thy harvest comes from soil prepared,
From pow’rs well trained to master fate
Thro’ early years of purpose dared.
The perfect work, the friendships dear,
The whole-souled honor, just and brave,
The triumph over trials dear,
Thy patient faith will gain and save.
3 O soul, thy faith to patience leads,
With virtuous strength thou canst control
The wayward self. The spirit pleads
For life’s devotion to its goal.
Fulfilment comes with steady gain;
The years of schooling hard and long
Are worth their cost in strife and pain
That win the glory of the strong.