Oh, my Father in Heaven
Guarding me from all perils and trials  
And sets my heart free of all clutter
For you, my songs of praise, I reserve

All my life, I shall sing
Without fail, in bloom or gloom
On every unfolding day
Through months and years
Till death and beyond
Let my songs sail across the skies
And with the chorus of the heavenly band, unite

Oh, the benevolent Lord of all creation
Custodian of all wealth
Contriver of birth and death
The Master Crafts man
Everything is your handiwork.

The lofty mounts
Veiled in misty snow
The verdant dales
Lush and still
The fathomless deep
Where mysteries peep
All the flowers
That bloom and wither
All things
Bright and beautiful
Everything, above and below
In all,
Let me behold thy grace
And sing Thee praise!

Oh! Redeemer of Mankind
Guide me through the dark
Guard my steps where dangers lurk
Hold my hand
And never loosen your grip

Make me face the light
Illumine me with wisdom serene
And fill me with love divine;
So that you be glorified
Here, on Earth
And in Heaven be!

.
.Youth is light,
Breaking across
The tired world.
Light is sharing,
In youth like the air,
Each breath a bloom
From some new flower,
Lost in true wilderness,
Of light, each cut shine,
Is sheered with others
Youthful as enlighted
Ones under heaven.
And tired souls smile
As they watch light
Grow, for tired light
Knows, each day
Was a gift of sight,
As the elder beams
Slowly fade into so,
Such, a western sky
With old mellowness
Of promised comings,
Weary lords to make,
Newborns, rebirthed,
Freshly, rawly on high.