Most blessed

For all the gifts you give and are

I give you one of mine,

Though in these sparks of gentle fire

I trace another's hand.

And if my traces waver

On my parchment thin and torn,

From wasted hours, I scribe by night

Words that I should have scribed by morn.

Yet be it joy to trace His hand,

And to His glory every boast;

Height far unscaled o'er Heaven's strand,

Most blessed in that He gives the most.