One precious boon, O Lord, I seek,
While tossed upon life's billowy sea;
To hear a voice within me speak,
"Thy Saviour is well pleased with thee."
Earth's scoffs and scorn well pleased I'll bear,
Nor mourn though underfoot I'm trod,
If day by day I may but share
Thine approbation, O my God!
The friends I love may turn from me,
Their words unkind may pierce me through;
But this my daily prayer shall be,
"Forgive; they know not what they do."
Let me but know, wher-e'er I roam,
That I am doing Jesus' will;
And though I've neither friends nor home,
My heart shall glow with gladness still.
To that bright, blest, immortal morn,
By holy prophets long foretold,
My eager, longing eyes I turn,
And soon its glories shall behold.
Then all the scoffs and scorn I've borne
For His dear sake who died for me,
To everlasting joys will turn,
In glorious immortality.