Father, at Thy altar kneeling,
Sin-defiled;
Seeking there the balm of healing,
To Thy Fatherhood appealing,
See Thy child.
I am weary of transgressions;
I have sinned;
Prone to vice and indiscretion,
Vacillation, misimpression,
As the wind.
Neither sins nor imperfections
I conceal;
Evil thoughts, impure reflections,
Faults in manifold directions,
Can I feel.
I am tired of life's illusion,
I would rest;
Leave its turmoil and confusion,
Fain would know the blest seclusion
Of Thy breast.
Through the shadows of the valley
As I speed,
Bid my faltering courage rally,
To resist each adverse sally;
Wilt Thou lead?
For I know that Thou art reigning
Over all;
With this confidence remaining,
Let me feel Thy Hand sustaining
Lest I fall.