Whatever Dims Thy Sense of Truth

Whatever dims thy sense of truth

Or stains thy pur­ity

Though light as breath of sum­mer air

Count it as sin to thee.

Let not the world thy God de­throne

Or from His smile di­vide;

And count com­pared with heav­en­ly wealth

As dross all things be­side.

Dim not the crys­tal of thy soul

By sin’s de­stroy­ing breath:

There lurks be­neath the sir­en smile

Dark trea­che­ry and death.

Preserve the tab­let of thy thoughts

From ev­ery blem­ish free

For our Re­deem­er’s low­ly faith

Its tem­ple makes with thee.

And pray of God

that grace be giv­en

To tread time’s nar­row way:

How dark so­ev­er it may seem

It leads to cloud­less day.