Father of love, our guide and friend,
O lead us gently on,
Until life’s trial time shall end,
And heav’nly peace be won.
We know not what the path may be
As yet by us untrod;
But we can trust our all to Thee,
Our Father and our God.
If called, like Abraham’s child, to climb
The hill of sacrifice,
Some angel may be there in time;
Deliverance shall arise.
Or, if some darker lot be good,
O teach us to endure
The sorrow, pain or solitude,
That makes the spirit pure.
Christ by no flowery pathway came;
And we, His followers here,
Must do Thy will and praise Thy name,
In hope, and love and fear.
And, till in Heav’n we sinless bow,
And faultless anthems raise,
O Father, Son, and Spirit, now,
Accept our feeble praise.