| Come, my soul, thou must be waking;Now is breaking over the earth another day;
 Come to Him Who made this splendor;
 See thou render all thy feeble powers can pay.
 Thou, too, hail the light returningReady burning be the incense of thy powers;
 For the night is safely ended,
 God hath tended with His care thy helpless hours.
 Pray that He may prosper everEach endeavor when thine aim is good and true;
 But that He may ever thwart thee,
 And convert thee, when thou evil wouldst pursue.
 Think that He thy ways beholdeth;He unfoldeth every fault that lurks within;
 He the hidden shame glossed over
 Can discover, and discern each deed of sin.
 Mayest thou on life’s last morrow,Free from sorrow, pass away in slumber sweet:
 And, released from death’s dark sadness,
 Rise in gladness that far brighter Sun to greet.
 Only God’s free gifts abuse not,Light refuse not, but His Spirit’s voice obey;
 Thou with Him shalt dwell, beholding
 Light enfolding all things in unclouded day.
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