1 Shine on our souls, eternal God!
With rays of beauty shine;
Oh, let Thy favor crown our days,
And their whole course be Thine.

2 Did we not raise our hands to Thee,
Our hands might toil in vain:
Small joy success itself could give,
If Thou Thy love restrain.

3 'Tis ours the furrows to prepare,
And sow the precious grain:
'Tis Thine to give the sun and air,
And to command the rain.

4 With Thee let every week begin,
With Thee each day be spent,
For Thee each fleeting hour improved,
Since each by Thee is lent.

5 Thus cheer us through this toilsome road
Till all our labors cease;
And heaven refresh our weary souls
With everlasting peace.