1 Where cross the crowded ways of life,
where sound the cries of race and clan,
above the noise of selfish strife
we hear your voice, O Son of Man!

2 In haunts of wretchedness and need,
on shadowed thresholds fraught with fears,
from paths where hide the lures of greed
we catch the vision of your tears.

3 The cup of water given for you
still holds the freshness of your grace;
yet long these multitudes to view
the strong compassion of your face.

4 O Master, from the mountainside,
make haste to heal these hearts of pain;
among these restless throngs abide,
O tread the city’s streets again,

5 Till all the world shall learn your love
and follow where your feet have trod:
till glorious from your heaven above
shall come the city of our God.