To Thee I lift my eyes, O Thou
Who art in heaven enthroned.
As servants watch their master's hand,
Or as a maid's eyes wait
Her mistress' hand to see,
So our eyes, waiting, now attend
Upon the LORD our God,
Until He gracious be to us.
Be gracious to us, LORD.
Be gracious unto us.
For we are sated with contempt;
Our soul is surfeited
With all the scoffing insolence
Of those who live at ease,
And with the proud's contempt.
