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The Book of Praise.
The wings of every hour shall bear Some thankful tribute to Thine ear, And every setting sun shall see New works of duty done for Thee.
Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim ; Thy bounty flows, an endless stream ; Thy mercy swift, Thine anger slow, But dreadful to the stubborn foe.
But who can speak Thy wondrous deeds ? Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds ; Vast and unsearchable Thy ways, Vast and immortal be Thy praise!
Isaac Watts. I
Lord, Thou hast form'd mine every part, Mine inmost thought is known to Thee;
Each word, each feeling of my heart, Thine ear doth hear, Thine eye can see.
Though I should seek the shades of night, And hide myself in guilty fear,
To Thee the darkness seems as light, The midnight as the noonday clear.
The heavens, the earth, the sea, the sky, All own Thee ever present there ;
Where'er I turn, Thou still art nigh, Thy Spirit dwelling everywhere.
Oh may that Spirit, ever blest, Upon my soul in radiance shine,
Till, welcomed to eternal rest,
I taste Thy Presence, Lord Divine !
Robert Allan Scott. I