Forgive me, Lord, my wayward will,
My selfish, worldly thought;
Incline me to abhor the ill,
And choose the things I ought.
It is not in my power to choose
And seek the better part;
I fear the things of earth to lose,
And bind them to my heart.
O Gracious Christ, to me reveal
The riches that are sure;
And I shall shun the base, unreal,
And grasp what shall endure.
Yea, with Thyself enrich my heart,
And make Thy will mine own;
Then I shall have the better part,
And joy in Thee alone.