O Love, the votive candle of my heart
I light for Thee alone,
And though, sometimes, its eager flame be blown
By error's gusts, I know Thy shining peace
Will kindle it, and winds and darkness cease.
O Life, the ripest offerings of my days
I bring to Thee alone,
And though, sometimes, these glowing gifts be sown
With cold time's mortal dust, I do not fear,
Knowing the breath of Being fans them clear.
O Truth, the unvoiced hymning of my thoughts
I tune for Thee alone,
And though shrill discord seems to mar the tone,
I know sweet harmonies will still awake
Paeans of praising, for Thy wonders' sake!
