To Thee, O Lord ...

To Thee, O Lord Who dwellest in the height,

My eyes look up for light.

Lo, as the eyes of servants, when neglected,

Are to their lord directed,

And as a Maiden's glance for favor lingers

Upon her mistress' fingers,

Thus, too, our eyes look to our Master's face

Till He provide us grace.

O Lord, our God, grant us Thy grace again,

Grant us Thy grace again.

For, lo, our ears are full of man's derision

At our estranged condition;

Our soul is sated with the scorn and chiding

Of those at ease abiding,

And of the proud who in their vanity

Regard us haughtily