For, to my soul; 'tis hell to be
But for one moment void of Thee.
Lord, I my vows to Thee renew;
Disperse my sins as morning dew;
Guard my first springs of thought and will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill.
Direct, control, suggest this day
All I design, or do, or say;
That all my powers with all their might
In Thy sole glory may unite.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Happy Life.
SIR HENRY WOTTON.
HOW happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill;
Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Untied unto the worldly care
Of public fame or private breath;
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise,
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;
Who hath his life from rumours freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great ;
Who God doth late and early pray,
More of His grace than gifts to lend,.
And entertains the harmless day,
With a religious book or friend.
This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet hath all.
The Evening Hymn.
BISHOP THOMAS KEN.
ALL praise to Thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light;
Keep me, oh keep me, King of kings,
Beneath Thine own Almighty wings!
Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son,
The ill that I this day have done;
That with the world, myself, and Thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed!
To die, that this vile body may
Rise glorious at the awful day!
O may my soul on Thee repose;
And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close ;
Sleep, that may me more vig'rous make
To serve my God when I awake!
When in the night I sleepless lie,
My soul with heavenly thoughts supply
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
No powers of darkness me molest !
Dull sleep, of sense me to deprive !
I am but half my time alive :
Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are grieved
To lie so long of Thee bereaved.
But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns,
Let it not hold me long in chains!
And now and then let loose my heart,
Till it a hallelujah dart!
The faster sleep the senses binds,
The more unfetter'd are our minds;
Oh, may my soul, from matter free,
Thy loveliness unclouded see !
Oh, when shall I, in endless day,
For ever chase dark sleep away,
And hymns with the supernal choir
Incessant sing, and never tire?
Oh, may my Guardian, while I sleep,
Close to my bed his vigils keep;
His love angelical instil;
Stop all the avenues of ill :
May he celestial joy rehearse,
And thought to thought with me converse;
Or in my stead, all the night long,
Sing to my God a grateful song!
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below! Praise Him above, ye heavenly host!
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
An Evening Hymn.
REV. JOHN KEBLE.
UN of my soul, Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near :
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.
When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spurn'd to-day the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin :
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch by the sick: enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store;
Be every mourner's sleep to-night,
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.
Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take;
Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves in Heaven above.
OW sweet the fall of eve,
When, in the glowing West,
The sun hath sunk to rest,
Yet shining footprints on the air doth leave; While through the deep'ning twilight, soft and low The fragrant evening breezes come and go!
How beautiful, when light
Hath fled, and leaf and stream
Rest in a quiet dream
Within the curtaining shadows of the night;
While troops of stars look down with dewy rays
And flowers droop their eyes beneath their gaze.
How silent is the air!
Who would not at such a shrine
To holier thoughts incline?
The ever-tranquil night was made for prayer,
On the hush'd earth, from the o'erarching sky,
Doth not a solemn benediction lie?
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