RE the morning's busy ray Ere the silent evening close Your wearied eyes in sweet repose, To lift your heart and voice in prayer Be your first and latest care. He to whom the prayer is due, From heaven His throne shall smile on you; Angels sent by him shall tend Your daily labour to befriend, And their nightly vigils keep To guard you in the hour of sleep. When through the peaceful parish swells The music of the Sabbath bells, Duly tread the sacred road Which leads you to the house of God; And oh! where'er your days be past; And God shall be your strength alway. He only to the heart can give He can, he will, from out the dust CRABBE. EVENING PRAYER. HE sun has gone to rest, The bee forsakes the flower, The young bird slumbers in the nest, Within the leafy bower. Morning Hymn. Where have I been this day? Into what folly run? Forgive me, Father, when I pray, When all my days are o'er, Wilt thou permit my soul to soar To worlds beyond the sky! 369 L. H. SIGOURNEY. MORNING HYMN. WAKE, my soul, and with the sun Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise To pay thy morning sacrifice. Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart, Glory to thee, who safe hast kept, And hast refreshed me while I slept : Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake, I may of endless life partake. Lord, I to thee my vows renew; Dispel 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 true delight, To thy sole glory may unite. BISHOP KENN. EVENING HYMN. EFORE I close my eyes to-night, Nor thought my duty was a task? Have I been gentle, lowly, meek, And the small voice of conscience heard? When passion tempted me to speak, Have I repressed the angry word? Have I with cheerful zeal obeyed What my kind parents bid me do, And not by word or action said The thing that was not strictly true? In hard temptation's troubled hour, O Thou who seest all my heart, Wilt thou forgive and love me still? Wilt thou to me new strength impart, And make me love to do thy will? MRS. FOLLEN. |