All Things Are Thine

All things are Thine; no gift have we

Lord of all gifts

to of­fer Thee:

And hence with grate­ful hearts to­day

Thine own be­fore Thy feet we lay.

Thy will was in the build­ers’ thought;

Thy hand un­seen amidst us wrought;

Through mor­tal mo­tive

scheme and plan

Thy wise eter­nal pur­pose ran.

No lack Thy per­fect full­ness knew;

For hu­man needs and long­ings grew

This house of pray­er

this home of rest

In the fair gar­den of the West.

In weak­ness and in want we call

On Thee for whom the heav­ens are small;

Thy glo­ry is Thy child­ren’s good

Thy joy Thy ten­der Fa­ther­hood.

O Fa­ther

deign these walls to bless;

Fill with Thy love their emp­ti­ness;

And let their door a gate­way be

To lead us from our­selves to Thee.