IN LOWLY PATHS

1In lowly paths of service free,
Tell me not a greater story;
Walk me to that shore of light,
Where the ransomed robes grow bright.

2To labor here from day to day
With the grateful heart that sees
In the vernal turf the clay,
And guilt that is the seasoned way.

3But is the vernal turf the clay,
And guilt that is the seasoned way?
Then lead me where I ought to go,
And learn how to submit below.

4May I learn to know thy will,
And lean upon thy arm of love,
In quiet rest and trustful still,
Till called to that home above.