Take Thou the Vision; 10, it stands Securely wrought: it is not mine. Take Thou the toil Of human hands, The Vision and the Toil are Thine. I am Thy servant; I but speak The message of Thy silent lips; Mine is the utterance — how weak! But Thine the strong Apocalypse. Dread grace of God, transcending law, On Thee my human spirit leant; Me Thou didst choose; forgive the ?aw Within Thy faulty instrument.