Frances Ridley Havergal (1836–1879)

O MASTER, at Thy feet

I bow in rapture sweet!

Before me, as in darkening glass,

Some glorious outlines pass,

Of love, and truth, and holiness, and power;

I own them Thine, O Christ, and bless Thee for this hour.

O full of truth and grace,

Smile of Jehovah’s face,

O tenderest heart of love untold!

Who may Thy praise unfold?

Thee, Saviour, Lord of lords and King of kings,

Well may adoring seraphs hymn with veiling wings.

I have no words to bring

Worthy of Thee, my King,

And yet one anthem in Thy praise

I long, I long to raise;

The heart is full, the eye entranced above,

But words all melt away in silent awe and love.

How can the lip be dumb,

The hand all still and numb,

When Thee the heart doth see and own

Her Lord and God alone?

Tune for Thyself the music of my days,

And open Thou my lips that I may show Thy praise.

Yea, let my whole life be

One anthem unto Thee,

And let the praise of lip and life

Outring all sin and strife.

O Jesus, Master! be Thy name supreme,

For heaven and earth the one, the grand, the eternal theme.