Though art near, O Lord,
Though art here, O Lord.
Though wilt guide me with Thine eye,
And my heart leaps up
Like a springing well
To feel that Though art so nigh.
About my path
And about my bed -
Though dost compass all my ways;
Though hast answered prayer
And hast lifted care
And my heart is filled with praise.
A mustard seed
It is small indeed,
But can grow exceedingly,
A downward root
Bearing upward fruit
And becoming a useful tree.
So, the Master saith,
When a living faith
In our inward hearts is sown
By His purpose sure
Will fruit mature
That shall be to his praise alone.
