Words: (1841-1919). The words were written circa 1865, and appeared shortly thereafter in the Sunday Magazine.
Music: Gouda, (1838-1897).
O Lord, with toil our days are filled,
They rarely leave us free;
O give us space to seek for grace
In happy thoughts of Thee.
Yet hear us, little though we ask,
O leave us not alone;
In every thought, and word, and task,
Be near us, though unknown.
Still lead us, wandering in the dark,
Still send us heavenly food,
And mark, as none on earth can mark,
Our struggle to be good.