Thou knowest, Lord,
Thou know’st my life’s deep story,
And all the mingled
Good and ill I do;
Thou seest my shame,
My few stray gleams of glory,
Where I am false
And where my soul rings true.

Lord, I am glad
Thou know’st my inmost being,
Glad Thou dost search
The secrets of my heart;
I would not hide
One folly from Thy seeing,
Nor shun Thy healing
Touch to save the smart.

Like warp and woof
The good and ill are blended,
Nor do I see
The pattern that I weave;
Yet in Thy love
The whole is comprehended,
And in Thy hand
My future lot I leave.

Only, dear Lord,
Make plain the path of duty;
Let not my shame
And sorrow weigh me down,
Lest in despair
I fail to see its beauty,
And weeping vainly,
Miss the victor’s crown.