1 Master, no offering,
Costly and sweet,
May we, like Magdalene,
Lay at Thy feet;
Yet may love's incense rise,
Sweeter than sacrifice,
Dear Lord, to Thee.

2 Daily our lives would show
Weakness made strong,
Toilsome and gloomy ways
Brightened with song;
Some deeds of kindness done,
Some souls by patience won,
Dear Lord, to Thee.

3 Some word of hope, for hearts
Burdened with fears,
Some balm of peace, for eyes
Blinded with tears:
Some dews of mercy shed,
Some wayward footstep led,
Dear Lord, to Thee.

4 Thus in Thy service, Lord,
Till eventide
Closes the day of life,
May we abide.
And when earth's labours cease,
Bid us depart in peace,
Dear Lord, to Thee.