Our God, to Whom We Turn



Our God, to Whom we turn

When weary with illusion,

Whose stars serenely burn

Above this earth’s confusion,

Thine is the mighty plan,

The steadfast order sure

In which the world began,

Endures, and will endure.



Thou art Thyself the truth;

Though we who fain would find Thee,

Have tried, with thoughts uncouth,

In feeble words to bind Thee,

It is because Thou art

We’re driven to the quest;

Till truth from falsehood part,

Our souls can find no rest.



All beauty speaks of Thee:

The mountains and the rivers,

The line of lifted sea,

Where spreading moonlight quivers,

The deep-toned organ blast

That rolls through arches dim,

Hints of the music vast

Of Thine eternal hymn.



Wherever goodness lurks

We catch Thy tones appealing;

Where man for justice works

Thou art Thyself revealing;

The blood of man, for man

On friendship’s altar spilt,

Betrays the mystic plan

On which Thy house is built.



Thou hidden fount of love,

Of peace, and truth, and beauty,

Inspire us from above

With joy and strength for duty.

May Thy fresh light arise

Within each clouded heart,

And give us open eyes

To see Thou as Thou art.

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