My Jesus, if the Seraphim,

The burning host that near Thee stand,

Before Thy Majesty are dim,

And veil their face at Thy command,

How shall these mortal eyes, now clouded

And dim with evil's hateful night,

Endure to meet the bliss of light

In which Thy throne is aye enshrouded?

Yet grant the eye of faith, O Lord,

To pierce within the Holy Place,

For I am saved and Thou adored,

If I am quicken'd by Thy grace.

Behold, O King, my soul is bending

In lowly love before Thy throne,

Oh say, "I choose thee for mine own,

With faithful love thy course befriending."

Have mercy, Lord of love, for long

My spirit for Thy mercy sighs,

My inmost soul hath found a tongue,

"Be merciful, O God," she cries!

I know Thou wilt not bid me leave Thee.

Thou canst not show Thyself a foe

To one for whom Thou bar'st such woe,

Whore lost estate so sore could grieve Thee.

Then let Thy wisdom, be my guide,

Nor take Thy light from me away,

Thy grace be ever at my side,

That from Thy path I may not stray;

But feeling that Thy hand is o'er me,

In steadfast faith my course fulfil,

And keep Thy word, and do Thy will,

Thy love within, Thy heaven before me!

Reach down and arm me with Thy hand,

And strengthen me with inner might,

That I through faith may strive and stand

Though craft and force against me fight;

That so may through me and within me

The kingdom of Thy love be spread,

That honours Thee, our glorious Head,

And once a crown of light shall win me.

To Thee I rise in faith on high,

O bend Thou down in love to me!

Let nothing rob me of this joy,

That all my soul is fill'd with Thee;

As long as here I live, yea longer,

Thee will I honour, fear, and love,

For when this heart hath ceas'd to move

Than Death itself Thy Love is stronger.