| O Master, let me walk with Thee,
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| In lowly paths of service free;
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| Tell me Thy secret; |
| help me bear
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| The strain of toil, the fret of care.
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| Help me the slow of heart to move
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| By some clear, winning word of love;
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| Teach me the wayward feet to stay,
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| And guide them in the homeward way.
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| O Master, let me walk with Thee,
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| Before the taunting Pharisee;
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| Help me to bear the sting of spite,
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| The hate of men who hide Thy light.
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| The sore distrust of souls sincere
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| Who cannot read Thy judgments clear,
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| The dullness of the multitude,
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| Who dimly guess that Thou art good.
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| Teach me Thy patience; |
| still with Thee
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| In closer, dearer, company,
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| In work that keeps faith sweet and strong,
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| In trust that triumphs over wrong.
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| In hope that sends a shining ray
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| Far down the future’s broadening way,
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| In peace that only Thou canst give,
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| With Thee, O Master, let me live. |