Daily Bread

Who hath not found Thy tender grace
To glorify the commonplace,
Or in his everyday routine
Some glimpse of beauty hath not seen?

Oh! not among the stars we need
Thine angels seek, but rather heed
Their willingness to enter in
The very dwelling place of sin.

And every heart that doth confess
Its hunger for Thy loveliness,
May find Thee here in humble ways,
Invisible to blinder gaze.

For oft in crowded marts we trace
Thy message in a stranger's face,
Or hear Thee in the laughter sweet
Of children playing in the street.

From morning psalm to evening prayer,
Who seeketh finds Thee everywhere;
And though he toil for daily bread,
With heaven's manna may be fed.

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