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EVENING |
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20 |
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2 Thou, whose all-pervading eye Naught escapes, without, within, Pardon each infirmity,
Open fault, and secret sin.
3 Soon, for me, the light of day Shall forever pass away:
GARDEN CITY S. M. |
Then, from sin and sorrow free, Take me, Lord, to dwell with Thee. |
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4 Thou who, sinless, yet hast known All of man's infirmity; Then, from Thine eternal throne, Jesus, look with pitying eye.
Bishop George Washington Doane, 1824 |
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H. W. Parker. iSqo |
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2 Around the throne on high
Where night can never be, The white-robed harpers of the sky Bring ceaseless hymns to Thee.
3 Too faint our anthems here;
Too soon of praise we tire; But O the strains how full and clear Of that eternal choir.
4 Yet, Lord, to Thy dear will,
If thou attune ths heart, |
We in Thine angels' music still May bear our lower part.
5 'Tis Thine each soul to calm,
Each wayward thought reclaim, And make our daily life a psalm Of glory to Thy name.
6 A little while, and then
Shall come the glorious end;
And songs of angels and of men
In perfect praise shall blend.
Rev. John Ellerton, 1867 |
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