Forgive me, Lord, my wayward will,

My selfish, worldly thought;

Incline me to abhor the ill,

And choose the things I ought.

It is not in my power to choose

And seek the better part;

I fear the things of earth to lose,

And bind them to my heart.

O Gracious Christ, to me reveal

The riches that are sure;

And I shall shun the base, unreal,

And grasp what shall endure.

Yea, with Thyself enrich my heart,

And make Thy will mine own;

Then I shall have the better part,

And joy in Thee alone.