The offerings to thy throne which rise,

Of mingled praise and prayer,

Are but a worthless sacrifice

Unless the heart is there.

2 Upon thine all-discerning ear

Let no vain words intrude;

No tribute but the vow sincere—

The tribute of the good.

3 My offerings will indeed be blest,

If sanctified by thee—

If thy pure Spirit touch my breast

With its own purity.

4 O, may that Spirit warm my heart

To piety and love,

And to life’s lowly vale impart

Some rays from heaven above.