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To be Sung at Work

Son of the Carpenter, receive

This humble work of mine;

Worth to my meanest labour give,

By joining it to Thine.

Servant of all, to toil for man

Thou wouldst not, Lord, refuse:

Thy Majesty did not disdain

To be employ’d for us.

Thy bright example I pursue,

To Thee in all things rise,

And all I think, or speak, or do,

Is one great sacrifice.

Careless through outward cares I go,

From all distraction free:

My hands are but engaged below,

My heart is still with Thee.

O, when wilt Thou, my Life, appear!

How gladly would I cry,

“’Tis done, the work Thou gav’st me here,

’Tis finish’d, Lord,” and die!

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