My God! I call upon thy name,

To aid me in expelling

The thirst for pleasure, wealth, and fame,

Within my bosom dwelling.

Order my steps by thy just word,

And grace and strength thereby afford,

My foe’s dread influence quelling.

My soul its rest can never find

In earth’s fast fleeting pleasure;

As smoke before the passing wind,

So fades all earthly treasure;

Immortal is the soul of man,

And only joys immortal can

Fill up its perfect measure.

Seek I such rest on earth—though bright,

Earth’s joys are far below it;

No vain delight of sense or sight,

Nor pomps of life bestow it;

Then from these joys I’ll turn away,

And on my God my heart I’ll stay,

His fulness shall o’erflow it.

Thou, Lord, my wealth and fame shalt be,

My pleasure never ceasing;

Then let my soul’s deep thirst for Thee

Be evermore increasing;

Fixing on Thee Faith’s tranquil eye,

To earth and self now make me die,

My captive soul releasing.

With heart already placed on high,

Lord, let me walk before Thee,

Where I through all eternity

Shall see Thee and adore Thee;

So shall my soul be truly blest,

And find in Thee that joy and rest,

For which I oft implore Thee.