Formed for Thyself; Thou must my longings fill!
Not with the cattle is there rest for me.
Filled with the husks of earth, I hunger still;
Thou, Bread of Life, must my refreshment be.

Formed for Thyself! Deep from my heart the cry!
Not in barns and vineyards is there rest for me;
Tho’ filled with husks, swine may contented lie,
I cannot rest until I rest in Thee.

Formed for Thyself! What rest can earth afford,
(These things of time which soon must cease to be),
To one who bears the image of his Lord?
For Thou hast stamped upon my soul---"ETERNITY!"

Formed for Thyself! Shall I my birthright spurn?
Still seek for rest where rest can never be?
From Thy rich feast to mess of pottage turn?
From Heaven’s peace to Hell’s deep misery?

Formed for Thyself! But fallen and undone!
So tossed and restless like the troubled sea,
Into Thine outstretched arms, to Thee I come;
O rest indeed! For now I rest in Thee!