Eternal One, whom mortal eye
Hath never seen, and ne’er can see,
Loud winds, and fires that flame on high,
Are spirits ministering to thee.
Those angels of thy love and might,
How blest the office that they bear!
To shed on earth the holy light,
And fill with health the wakened air.
And yet, to man hast thou assigned
A nobler ministry than this;-
With grace and truth to cheer the mind,
And wake the soul to health and bliss.
By him, who to this holy end
Is now ordained,-as by the Son,
Whom thou didst sanctify and send
To save the world,-thy will be done.
Thy will be done, whene’er he leads
The service in these courts of thine;
Thy will be done, whene’er he pleads
For truth or charity divine.
When at the couch by anguish pressed
He kneels, and speaks of pardon there,
Then may the contrite sufferer rest,
Soothed by his presence and his prayer.
When, like the moth, his house of clay
Is crushed, O may the spirit, Lord,
That served thee in it, hear thee say,
‘Rise from thy toils to thy reward.’