Father, at Thy altar kneeling,

Seeking there the balm of healing,

To Thy Fatherhood appealing,

I am weary of transgressions;

Prone to vice and indiscretion,

Vacillation, misimpression,

Neither sins nor imperfections

Evil thoughts, impure reflections,

Faults in manifold directions,

I am tired of life's illusion,

Leave its turmoil and confusion,

Fain would know the blest seclusion

Through the shadows of the valley

Bid my faltering courage rally,

To resist each adverse sally;

For I know that Thou art reigning

With this confidence remaining,

Let me feel Thy Hand sustaining