Small Tableaux By the Rev. Charles Turner [i.e. Charles Tennyson] |
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O GOD, IMPART THY BLESSING TO MY CRIES.
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O GOD, IMPART THY BLESSING TO MY CRIES.
O God, impart Thy blessing to my cries!I trust but faintly, and I daily err;
The waters of my heart are oft astir,
An angel's there! and yet I cannot rise!
Ah! would my Lord were here amongst us still,
Proffering His bosom to His servant's brow;
Too oft that holy life comes o'er us now,
Like twilight echoes from a distant hill;
We long for His pure looks and words sublime;
His lowly-lofty innocence and grace;
The talk sweet-toned, and blessing all the time;
The mountain sermon and the ruthful gaze;
The cheerly credence gathered from His face;
His voice in village-groups at eve or prime!
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