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PRAYER AND ASPIRATION |
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474 |
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2 Blest is that tranquil hour of morn,
And blest that solemn hour of eve, [When, on the wings of prayer upborne,
The world I leave. [3 Then is my strength by Thee renewed;
Then are my sins by Thee forgiven; Then dost Thou cheer my solitude
With hopes of heaven. 4 No words can tell what sweet relief
Here for my every want I find; |
What strength for warfare, balm for grief, What peace of mind.
5 Hushed is each doubt, gone every fear; My spirit seems in heaven to stay;
And e'en the penitential tear Is wiped away.
6 Lord, till I reach that blissful shore, No privilege so dear shall be
As thus my inmost soul to pour In prayer to Thee. |
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Charlotte Elliott, 1834 |
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475 |
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2 My soul, ask what thou wilt, Thon canst not be too bold; Since His own blood for thee He spilt, What else can He withhold? I3 Thine image, Lord, bestow,
Thy presence and Thy love; |
I ask to serve Thee here below, And reign with Thee above. 4 T«ach me to live by faith, Conform my will to Thine, Let me victorious be in death, And then in glory shine.
Rev. John Newton, 1770 |
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