1 Shine on our souls, Eternal God,
With rays of beauty shine;
O, let Thy favor crown our days,
And all their round be Thine!
2 Did we not raise our hands to Thee,
Our hands might toil in vain;
Small joy success itself could give
If Thou Thy love restrain.
3 With Thee let every week begin,
With Thee each day be spent,
For Thee each fleeting hour improved,
Since each by Thee is lent.
4 Midst hourly cares may love present
Its incense at Thy throne;
And while the world our hands employs,
Our hearts be Thine alone.