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175. M Y God, how endless is Thy love, Thod spread'st the curtains of the night, NI Thy gifts are every evening new, Great Guardian of my sleeping hours; And morning mercies from above
Thy sovereign Word restores the light, Gently distil like early dew
1 And quickens all my drowsy powers. I yield my powers to Thy command,
To Thee I consecrate my days;
Demand perpetual songs of praise.
NEW every morning is the love | The trivial round, the common task,
Our wakening and uprising prove, Will furnish all we ought to ask; Through sleep and darkness safely brought, Room to deny ourselves,-a road Restored to life and power and thought. To bring us daily nearer God.
New mercies, each returning day, Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love
| Fit us for perfect rest above;
If, on our daily course, our mind
JESU, Lord of heavenly grace, | O, hallow'd be the approaching day!
Thou brightness of Thy Father's face, Let meekness be our morning ray, Thou Fountain of eternal light,
And faithful love our noon-day light, Whose beams disperse the shades of night! And hope our sunset, calm and bright.
Come, holy Sun of heavenly love,
O Christ, with each returning morn,
May faith, deep rooted in the soul,