And shouldst thou be a stranger
To that which thou hast made?
Oh! ever be about my path,
And hover near my bed.
Lead me in every step I take,
Teach me each word I say:
Speak, for thy servant heareth,
And heareth to obey.
How hath thy glory lighted
My lonely place of rest t;
How sacred now shall be to me
The spot which thou hast blest!
If aught of evil should draw nigh
To bring me shame and fear,
My steadfast soul shall make reply,
"Depart, for God is near!"
I bless thee that thou speakest
Thus to an humble child;
The God of Jacob calls to me
In gentle tones and mild;
Thine enemies before thy face
Are scattered in dismay:
Speak, Lord, thy servant heareth,
And heareth to obey.
I've stood before thee all my days
Have ministered to thee;
But in the hour of darkness first
Thou speakest unto me.
And now, the night appeareth
More beautiful than day:
Speak, Lord, thy servant heareth,
And heareth to obey.
Song of Praise for the Morning.
God was with me all this night,
And gave me sweet repose:
My God did watch, even whilst I slept,
Or I had never rose.
How many groan'd, and wish'd for sleep,
Until they wish'd for day,
Measuring slow hours with their quick pains,
Whilst I securely lay!
Whilst I did sleep all dangers slept,
No thieves did me affright;
Those ev'ning wolves, those beasts of prey,
Disturbers of the night.
No raging flames nor storms did rend
The house that I was in ;
I heard no dreadful cries without,
No doleful groans within.
What terrors have I scap'd this night,
Which have on others fell!
My body might have slept its last;
My soul have wak'd in hell.
Sweet rest hath gain'd that strength to me,
Which labour did devour:
My body was in weakness sown,
But it is rais'd in
Lord, for the mercies of the night,
My humble thanks I pay;
And unto thee I dedicate
The first-fruits of the day.
Let this day praise thee, O my God,
And so let all my days:
And, O let mine eternal day
Be thine eternal praise.
GOD of my life, and author of my days!
Permit my feeble voice to lisp thy praise; And trembling take upon a mortal tongue That hallow'd name to harps of Seraphs sung. Yet here the brightest Seraphs could no more Than hide their faces, tremble, and adore. Worms, angels, men, in ev'ry diff'rent sphere, Are equal all, for all are nothing here. All Nature faints beneath the mighty name,
Which Nature's works, through all her parts, proclaim.
I feel that name my inmost thoughts control,
And breathe an awful stillness thro' my soul;
As by a charm the waves of grief subside;
Impetuous passion stops her headlong tide :
At thy felt presence all emotions cease,
And my hush'd spirit finds a sudden peace,
Till ev'ry worldly thought within me dies,
And earth's gay pageants vanish from my eyes;
Till all my sense is lost in infinite,
And one vast object fills my aching sight.
But soon, alas! this holy calm is broke;
My soul submits to wear her wonted yoke;
With shackled pinions strives to soar in vain,
And mingles with the dross of earth again.
But he, our gracious Master, kind as just,
Knowing our frame, remembers man is dust.
His Spirit, ever brooding o'er our mind,
Sees the first wish to better hopes inclin'd;
Marks the young dawn of ev'ry virtuous aim,
And fans the smoking flax into a flame:
His ears are open to the softest cry,
His
grace descends to meet the lifted eye;
He reads the language of a silent tear,
And sighs are incense from a heart sincere.
Such are the vows, the sacrifice I give :
Accept the vow, and bid the suppliant live.
From each terrestrial bondage set me free;
Still ev'ry wish that centres not in thee;
Bid my fond hopes, my vain disquiets cease,
And point my path to everlasting peace.
If the soft hand of winning pleasure leads
By living waters, and through flow'ry meads,
When all is smiling, tranquil, and serene,
And vernal beauty paints the flatt'ring scene,
Oh! teach me to elude each latent snare,
And whisper to my sliding heart-Beware!
With caution let me hear the Syren's voice,
And doubtful, with a trembling heart rejoice.
If friendless in a vale of tears I stray,
Where briers wound, and thorns perplex my way,
Still let my steady soul thy goodness see,
And with strong confidence lay hold on thee;
With equal eye my various lot receive,
Resign'd to die, or resolute to live;
Prepar'd to kiss the sceptre or the rod,
While God is seen in all, and all in God.
I read his awful name emblazon'd high
With golden letters on th' illumin'd sky,
Nor less the mystic characters I see
Wrought in each flow'r, inscrib'd on ev'ry tree;
In ev'ry leaf that trembles to the breeze
I hear the voice of God among the trees;
With thee in shady solitudes I walk,
With thee in busy crowded cities talk;
In ev'ry creature own thy forming pow'r,
In each event thy providence adore.
Thy hopes shall animate my drooping soul,
Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear control.
Thus shall I rest unmov'd by all alarms,
Secure within the temple of thine arms,
From anxious cares, from gloomy terrors free,
And feel myself omnipotent in thee.
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