Dear Lord, who dwellest with us now
In sad humanity,
Give us beneath the cross to bow
Which men have laid on Thee.
When hunger calls to us for bread
With childhood’s piteous plea,
Make us to know what Thou hast said
Of those who give to Thee.
When stranger knocketh at our door
For cheer and sympathy,
Our hearts would warmest greetings pour,
That we may welcome Thee.
When sick and sore distressed appeal
In man’s infirmity,
We’d haste the broken heart to heal
That we may comfort Thee.
When captive lives in mortal pains
Are clamoring to be free,
We’d strike away the heavy chains
That we may succor Thee.