Dear Lord, take up our tangled strands,
Where we have wrought in vain,
That by the skill of Thy dear hands
Some beauty may remain.
Transformed by grace divine,
The glory shall be Thine;
To Thy most holy will, O Lord,
We now our all resign.
Touch Thou the sad, discordant keys
Of every troubled breast,
And change to peaceful harmonies
The sighings of unrest.
Where broken vows in fragments lie—
The toil of wasted years—
Do Thou make whole again, we cry,
And give a song for tears.
Take all the failures, each mistake
Of our poor human ways,
Then, Savior, for Thine own dear sake,
Make them show forth Thy praise.