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, when-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.

Let me but know. where'er I roam,
That I am doing Jesus' will;
And though I've neither friends nor home.
My heart shall glow with gladness still.