OFT when alone in prayer I kneel

Before my Father’s throne;

I cannot tell Him all I feel,

Nor make my wishes known.

With heart subdued, and head bowed low,

I lean upon His breast,

And while the tears unbidden flow,

My love for Him confess.

I have no boon to ask of Him,

Save that His will be done,

To make me holy, pure within—

An image of His Son.

But as He smiles and draws me near—

His Spirit from above

Floods all my soul with peace so dear,

And fills my heart with love.

Though from my gaze He hides His face,

My soul, from self apart,

Hath found its happy resting place

Close to His loving heart.

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