Aspiration

Over the heights the snow lies deep,

Sunk is the land in peaceful sleep;

Here by the house of God we pray,

Lead, Lord, our souls to-day.

Shielding, like the silent snow,

Fall his mercies here below.

Calmly then, like the snow-bound land,

Rest we in his protecting hand;

Bowing, we wait his mighty will:

Lead, Lord, and guide us still.