To Thee, O Lord, I lift my thought in sorrow,
When fear, or doubt, or pain beset my way,
When dark forebodings of the unknown morrow
Becloud the light of Thine eternal day.
To Thee I lift mine eyes when tired with seeking,
And crave that peace which only Thou canst give;
I strain my ear to hear the still voice speaking,
And pray that I may yet know how to live.
To Thee, O Lord, I lift my thought, now hoping,
For Truth's soft beam has pierced the night profound;
I dimly see—no longer blindly groping,
I tread life's path, my feet on firmer ground.
