That I may not in blindness grope, But that I may with vision clear Know when to speak a word of hope Or add a little wholesome cheer.

That tempered winds may softly blow Where little children, thinly clad, Sit dreaming, when the flame is low, Of comforts they have never had.

That through the year which lies ahead No heart shall ache, no cheek be wet, For any word that I have said Or profit I have tried to get.