Mzm 42-43; Mzm 46
The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended,The darkness falls at Thy behest;To Thee our morning hymns ascended,Thy praise shall sanctify our rest.
We thank Thee that Thy church, unsleeping,While earth rolls onward into light,Through all the world her watch is keeping,And rests not now by day or night.
As o’er each continent and islandThe dawn leads on another day,The voice of prayer is never silent,Nor dies the strain of praise away.
The sun that bids us rest is wakingOur brethren ’neath the western sky,And hour by hour fresh lips are makingThy wondrous doings heard on high.
So be it, Lord; Thy throne shall never,Like earth’s proud empires, pass away:Thy kingdom stands, and grows forever,Till all Thy creatures own Thy sway.
God of my life, through all my days,My grateful powers shall sound Thy praise;My song shall wake with opening light,And cheer the dark and silent night.
When anxious cares would break my rest,And griefs would tear my throbbing breast,Thy tuneful praises, raised on high,Shall check the murmur and the sigh.
When death o’er nature shall prevail,And all its powers of language fail,Joy through my swimming eyes shall break,And mean the thanks I cannot speak.
But O! when that last conflict’s o’er,And I am chained to earth no more,With what glad accents shall I riseTo join the music of the skies!
Soon shall I learn the exalted strainsWhich echo through the heavenly plains;And emulate, with joy unknown,The glowing seraphs round the throne.
The cheerful tribute will I give,Long as a deathless soul shall live;A work so sweet, a theme so high,Demands and crowns eternity.
God of my life, to Thee I call;Afflicted, at Thy feet I fall;When the great water floods prevailLeave not my trembling heart to fail!
Friend of the friendless and the saint,Where should I lodge my deep complaint?Where but with Thee, whose open doorInvites the helpless and the poor!
Did ever mourner plead with Thee,And Thou refuse that mourner’s plea?Does not the Word still fixed remainThat none shall seek Thy face in vain?
That were a grief I could not bear,Didst Thou not hear and answer prayer;But a prayer hearing, answering GodSupports me under every load.
Fair is the lot that’s cast for me!I have an Advocate with Thee;They whom the world caresses most,Have no such privilege to boast.
Poor thou I am, despised, forgot,Yet God, my God, forgets me not;And he is safe, and must succeed,For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead.
My Lord, my Life, my Love,To Thee, to Thee I call;I cannot live if Thou remove:Thou art my joy, my all.
My only sun to cheerThe darkness where I dwell;The best and only true delightMy song hath found to tell.
To Thee in very HeavenThe angels owe their bliss;To Thee the saints, whom Thou hast calledWhere perfect pleasure is.
And how shall man, Thy child,Without Thee happy be,Who hath no comfort nor desireIn all the world but Thee?
Return, my Love, my Life;Thy grace hath won my heart;If Thou forgive, if Thou return,I will no more depart.
Slowly sinks the setting sun,Now the work of day is done;Lord, we come a thankful throng,Raise to Thee our evening song.
For Thy tender care bestowed,For Thy pardoning blood which flowed;For Thy love that crowns our days,Lord, accept our grateful praise.
And when sets life’s weary sun,When the toil of earth is done,To Thy home of perfect rest,Lord, receive us, ever blest.
For the robe, the palm, the blood,May we always praise our God,And with all the ransomed throng,Swell high Heaven’s triumphant song.