I hear thy calling whilst I sleep,
Thy voice so soft it touchest me,
Whilst in a quiet slumber deep,
And lest for thee alone I be.
Thine work wouldst thou to make mine own,
And to make it mine what joy 'twould be,
For on this sphere thine heart was sown,
And grows it well for aught to see.
But covers o'er the commons eye,
And muffled be their ear,
'Tis naught but lace to mask a sigh,
And naught to cover truth but fear.
So call me now, to spread thine love,
To move the cloth from curtain'd eye,
To let shine thy light from high above,
Thy truths upon their heads shall lie.
And swell it must in portion grow,
'Till all the world does see thee true,
And every voice cry high and low,
For thine works of glory all shalt do.
I heard thine call in midst of night,
And 'fore 'twas not thine life for me,
But heedest I thine word of light,
And now have peace and love in thee.