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
Light thro’ this darkness long.
Wilt not to our request for light
Turn a regardless ear,
Trackless the way, deep the blind night,
Venomed the atmosphere.
Our feeble feet have weary grown,
The path that Thine has pressed
Despised and lone we trembling tread
The highway into rest.
Yet, Lord, the sorrows of the way
Thro’ Thy compassions kind
Bring our proud spirits under sway
Of Thine unerring mind.
And thus the highway to the goal,
Shining before our hearts,
Instruction for the thoughtful mind
Thro’ grace divine imparts.
Yet to pursue the path aright
All heavenly grace we need,
And must, if we would value light,
To Thy sure word take heed.
Then give us simple confidence
In Thine unerring 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 the pathway find
The impress of Thy feet.
Search us, and know our inmost heart,
Our souls illuminate,
And lead us from all ill apart
In ways immaculate.