Perfect in Christ, our spirits yearn to be;
Perfect in manhood,—perfect, Lord, in Thee;
Strong in Thy strength, to love, to do, to bear;
Strong through Thy mighty arm, Thy ceaseless care.

Perfect in Christ,—no pain, no grief, nor loss,
Nor wearing toil, nor weight of wearying cross
Shall check the fond desire that bliss to feel,—
To bear the impress of the Spirit's seal.

As some glad morning bird, on joyous wings,
Leaps from her nest, and, soaring heavenward, sings,—
So would our souls, from sin's dark thraldom free,
Bound upward, Lord, to find their rest in Thee

Perfect in Christ, these natures, weak and frail,
O'er sin and weakness shall at last prevail;
In Him complete, before Him reverent fall,—
Our Priest, our King, our Saviour, and our All