O Daughters Blest of Galilee

O daugh­ters blest of Ga­li­lee

With Je­sus chose ye well to be

Thrice hap­py ho­ly com­pa­ny.

O joy

to see that Mas­ter dear!

O joy

to live with Him so near!

O joy

that gen­tle voice to hear!

O more than joy

to that dear Lord

In pur­est

deep­est love ad­ored

All low­ly serv­ice to af­ford.

Yea

hap­py was your lot to bring

In loy­al hom­age to your king

Each free and gra­cious of­fer­ing.

O Je­sus

throned above the height

Adoring troops of an­gels bright

Wait on Thy bid­ding day and night.

Thy sac­red form we can­not see

Yet

Lord

these hands may ren­der Thee

Each low­ly act of char­ity.

For while

’mid want and woe we move

And tend Thy poor in gen­tle love

We min­is­ter to Thee above.

O gra­cious Je­sus

we con­fess

Our poor cold love

our no­thing­ness:

Yet Thou wilt own

and Thou wilt bless.