Morning Prayer.
“In the morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee, and will look up.”
—Ps. v. 3.
The sacred hush of early morn
In hues of golden radiance born,
Seems like a silent worship given
By grateful earth to glorious heaven:
The elements, in placid rest,
Keep sabbath o'er creation's breast,
While conscious Nature half adores
The Lord to Whom devotion soars.
Round the lull'd ocean, sky, and air,
A dream-like trance broods everywhere,
And yet, of Him, to sense and soul
How eloquent the voiceless whole!
Now blooms the childhood of the day,
When light and loveliness array
The dew-eyed glance of each young flower
That opes its lid in garden-bower.
Glowing with omnipresent God,
And bright as if by Angels trod,
The vernal landscape, fruit, and field,
To Heaven their mute hosannah yield.
But, wing'd by faith, let souls ascend
And with celestial Harpers blend
Their litanies, whose tone divine
Echoes the creed,—The Lord is mine!
Abroad, at home, on land, or sea,
Lift we, O God! our lives to Thee;
And in calm thoughts of Thy blest care
Find dawning heaven in daily prayer.
Unconscious, through our helpless sleep,
Thine Eyes their watches o'er us keep,
While Mercy comes at matin hour
To give each pulse its waking power.
Soul of our Souls! Incarnate grace!
Ere Day begin its destined race,
Celestial guidance, awe, and love
Breathe from Thy mercy-shrine above.
By Heaven unwatch'd, we cannot stand,
Since perils lurk on every hand;
Nor can we wind a human path
Whose bloom no hidden serpent hath.
Be Thou, dear Lord, our Sun and Shield,
To faith's adoring heart reveal'd;
In all we suffer, dream, or do,
For Christ and glory keep us true.
Morn, noon, and night, beneath Thy wing
A blessing, not a burden, bring,
If will and word to Thee incline
And welcome law as love Divine.
Thus may we learn, ere time depart,
How Heaven is imaged on the heart;
While life repeats what lips declare,—
Obedience proves embodied prayer.
Lost in ourselves, in Christ re-found,
Thus move we through each duteous round,
And toil and task will channels be,
Like Sacraments, conveying Thee.
They live the best, who love the most,
And count that day a sinful boast
In which no care, or cross hath shown
God rules the will, and reigns alone.
