In Israel’s fane, by silent night,
The lamp of God was burning bright;
And there, by viewless angels kept,
Samuel, the child, securely slept.
A voice unknown the stillness broke;
Samuel! it called, and thrice it spoke;
He rose; he asked whence came the word;
From Eli? No—it was the Lord.
Thus early called to serve his God,
In paths of righteousness he trod;
Prophetic visions fired his breast,
And all the chosen tribes were blest.
Speak, Lord, and from our earliest days
Incline our hearts to love Thy ways;
Thy wakening voice hath reached our ear;
Speak Lord, to us; Thy servants hear.