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The Book of Praise.
O let Thy grace perform its part,
And let contention cease ; And shed abroad in every heart
Thine everlasting peace!
Thus chastened, cleansed, entirely Thine,
A flock by Jesus led, The Sun of holiness shall shine
In glory on our head.
And Thou wilt turn our wandering feet,
And Thou wilt bless our way, Till worlds shall fade, and faith shall greet
The dawn of lasting day !
Henry Kirke White. 1803
Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear, It is not night if thou be near ; Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes !
When round Thy wondrous works below My searching rapturous glance I throw, Tracing out wisdom, power, and love, In earth or sky, in stream or grove ;
Or, by the light Thy words disclose, Watch time's full river as it flows, Scanning Thy gracious Providence, Where not too deep for mortal sense;
When with dear friends sweet talk I hold, And all the flowers of life unfold ; Let not my heart within me burn, Except in all I Thee discern !