Faithful in Little Things
We need not bid, for cloistered cell,
Our neighbor and our work farewell,
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
For sinful man beneath the sky:
The trivial round, the common task
Will furnish all we ought to ask,
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us daily nearer God.
Seek we no more: content with these,
Let present rapture, comforts, ease,
As heaven shall bid them, come and go;
The secret thus, of rest below.
Only, Oh Lord, in Thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect rest above;
Help us, this day, and every day
To live more nearly as we pray.
Keble