I see the wrong that round me lies,
I feel the guilt within;
I hear, with groan and travail-cries
The world confess its sin:

Yet in the maddening maze of things,
And tossed by storm and flood,
To one fixed stake my spirit clings, —
I know that God is good!

Not mine to look where cherubim
And seraphs may not see;
But nothing can be good in him
Which evil is in me.

The wrong that pains my soul below
I dare not throne above;
I know not of his hate, — I know
His goodness and his love.

And thou, O Lord, by whom are seen
Thy creatures as they be,
Forgive me, if too close I lean
My human heart on thee!