You’ve probably heard it at a wedding. Or maybe a funeral. Perhaps you were just sitting in a drafty wooden pew on a random Sunday morning when the organist started those familiar, rolling triplets of the "Slane" melody. It’s one of those songs that feels like it has existed forever, even though it’s actually less than a century old. When people search for lord of all hopefulness with lyrics, they aren't usually looking for a dry academic paper. They’re looking for that specific sense of peace that Jan Struther managed to bottle up in four short stanzas back in 1931.
It is a "cradle to grave" hymn. It covers the entire arc of a human day—from the waking moments of morning to the quiet exhaustion of the night. But it’s also the arc of a human life.
The Woman Behind the Words: Jan Struther
Most people don’t know that the person who wrote these words wasn't a monk or a career theologian. Her name was Joyce Anstruther, better known by her pen name Jan Struther. If that name rings a bell, it’s likely because she created Mrs. Miniver, the character who became a symbol of British resilience during World War II.
She was asked to write the lyrics for the Enlarged Songs of Praise in 1931. At the time, she was a sophisticated London writer, often contributing to the Spectator and Punch. She wasn't particularly "churchy" in the traditional sense, which is exactly why the lyrics feel so grounded. They don't use heavy, archaic "thee" or "thou" language for the sake of it. Instead, they focus on hands, backs, and bliss.
Struther had a knack for finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. You see it in her prose, and you definitely see it here. She wrote this specifically to fit the meter of "Slane," an ancient Irish folk tune.
Lord of All Hopefulness With Lyrics: The Full Text
If you’re here for the words, here is the text as it was originally penned and as it is most commonly sung today:
Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,
Whose trust, ever child-like, no cares could destroy,
Be there at our waking, and give us, we pray,
Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.
Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,
Whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe,
Be there at our labors, and give us, we pray,
Your strength in our hearts, Lord, at the noon of the day.
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Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,
Your hands swift to welcome, Your arms to embrace,
Be there at our homing, and give us, we pray,
Your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.
Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,
Whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm,
Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray,
Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.
The Hidden Complexity of the "Slane" Melody
The tune "Slane" is named after Slane Hill in County Meath, Ireland. Legend has it that St. Patrick lit an Easter fire there in 433 AD, defying the High King Logaire. It’s a bold, defiant backstory for a melody that most of us now associate with a gentle hymn.
Musically, it’s a bit of a trick. It’s written in 3/4 or 9/8 time, giving it a lilt. It moves. It doesn't plod. When you pair Struther’s lyrics with this melody, you get something that feels both ancient and immediate. Most people recognize this tune from another massive hymn: "Be Thou My Vision."
It’s interesting, honestly. "Be Thou My Vision" is about a warrior’s protection—it uses words like "buckler" and "sword." But lord of all hopefulness with lyrics takes that same melody and makes it domestic. It moves the divine out of the battlefield and into the workshop.
Why the Second Verse Hits Different
Look at that second stanza again. "Whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe."
This is a direct nod to the "worker" aspect of Jesus' life. It’s about the dignity of manual labor. In the 1930s, when this was written, the world was grappling with the Great Depression. People were desperate for work. Mentioning a "plane and the lathe"—tools of a carpenter—made the divine feel relatable.
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It wasn't just about some distant deity in the clouds. It was about someone who knew what it felt like to have calloused hands. To be tired at noon. To have a back that ached from lifting timber.
A Hymn for the Modern Burnout
We live in a world that is obsessed with "productivity" and "hustle." We wake up checking notifications. We go to bed scrolling through bad news.
This hymn acts like a reset button.
The structure is intentionally cyclical. It starts with "waking" and ends with "sleeping." It covers "noon" and "eve." It’s basically a liturgical version of a "day in the life" vlog, but with a lot more soul.
- Morning: Focuses on child-like trust and bliss.
- Noon: Focuses on skill, labor, and strength.
- Evening: Focuses on "homing," welcoming, and love.
- Night: Focuses on contentment, balm, and peace.
There is a psychological comfort in this progression. It acknowledges that we need different things at different times. You don't need the "eagerness" of noon when you’re trying to fall asleep at 11 PM. You need the "balm."
Common Misconceptions and Variations
You’ll occasionally find variations in the text depending on which hymnal you’re using. Some modern versions change "Your" to "Thy" to make it sound older, which is kind of ironic since Struther wrote it to be modern. Others might tweak the word "homing" if they find it too British or archaic, though most stick to the original.
There’s also a common mistake where people think this is a medieval hymn because of the tune. Nope. It’s 20th-century. It just has "old soul" energy.
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Another thing: people often debate whether it's a wedding hymn or a funeral hymn. The answer is both. It’s played at weddings because of the "break of the day" and the hope of a new beginning. It’s played at funerals because of the "end of the day" and the promise of peace. It fits because it’s about the entirety of a life.
How to Use This in a Service or Personal Practice
If you are planning a ceremony or just want to use these lyrics for meditation, keep a few things in mind.
First, the tempo matters. If you play "Slane" too slowly, it becomes a dirge. If you play it too fast, it feels like a pub song. It needs that "walking pace"—moderato.
Second, pay attention to the verbs. Waking. Labors. Homing. Sleeping. It’s an active poem.
Third, consider the imagery of the "lathe." If you’re using this in a modern context, it’s a great reminder that our daily "grind"—even if it’s just typing on a laptop or driving a bus—is seen as valuable.
Actionable Ways to Engage With the Text
- Morning Meditation: Read the first verse before you check your phone. Focus on the word "bliss." Try to carry that specific "child-like" trust into your first meeting of the day.
- The Noon Reset: When you’re at the peak of your work stress, take thirty seconds to breathe through the second verse. Remind yourself that skill and labor are gifts, not just chores.
- Evening Reflection: Use the third and fourth verses as a way to "de-compress" from the workday. The transition from "homing" to "sleeping" is a vital psychological boundary.
- Musical Exploration: Listen to different versions. There is a beautiful choral arrangement by John Rutter that captures the "kindliness" of the lyrics perfectly. Or, look for folk versions that bring out the Irish lilt of the "Slane" melody.
The staying power of lord of all hopefulness with lyrics isn't just about nostalgia. It’s about the fact that we all still wake up, we all still work, we all still go home, and we all still need to sleep. It’s a universal human rhythm. Jan Struther just happened to find the perfect words to match it.
To truly appreciate the depth of this hymn, try writing out the lyrics by hand. There is something about the physical act of writing words like "kindliness" and "gentleness" that slows the heart rate down. In a world that feels increasingly loud and fractured, these four verses offer a rare moment of symmetry and quiet. They remind us that regardless of what happened at "noon," there is always the possibility of "peace" at the end of the day.