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Thou wilt bind the stubborn will,
Wound the callous breast,
Make self righteousness be still,
Break earth’s stupid rest.
Strangers on a barren shore,
Laboring long and lone,
We would enter by the door,
And Thou knowest Thine own.

So, when day grows dark and cold,
Tear or triumph harms,
Lead Thy lambkins to the fold,
Take them in Thine arms.
Feed the hungry, heal the heart,
Till the morning’s beam;
White as wool, ’ere they depart,
Shepherd, wash them clean.