1. Where cross the crowded ways of life,
Where sound the cries of race and clan,
Above the noise of selfish strife,
We hear Thy voice, O Son of Man.

2. In haunted of wretchedness and need,
On shadowed thresholds dark with fears,
From paths where hide the lures of greed,
We catch the vision of Thy tears.

3. From tender childhood's helplessness,
From woman's grief, man's burdened toil,
From famished souls from sorrow's stress,
Thy heart has never known recoil.

4. O Master, from the mountain side,
Make haste to heal these hearts of pain;
Among these restless throngs abide,
O tread the city's streets again;

5. Till sons of men shall learn Thy love,
And follow where Thy feet have trod;
Till glorious from Thy heav'n above,
Shall come the City of our God.