For the Morning

Giver of every good,
To praise Thy love I wake,
Thy love the balmy sleep bestow'd
For my Redeemer's sake;
Thy love kept off the pain
That oft invades my breast,
And bids my soul aspire again
To its eternal Rest.

To Thee in Christ my Peace
Again I humbly turn,
My past ingratitude confess.
My life of folly mourn;
A life how dark and void!
A long-continued blot!
Talents or hid, or misemployed,
And benefits forgot.

My virtues false and vain,
My justest works unjust,
Not one but gives my conscience pain,
And lays me in the dust:
But worse than all I find
The bitter root within,
The beastly heart, the devilish mind,
The hell of inbred sin.

Far from myself to Thee,
Thou sinner's Friend, I fly,
Forced out by my own misery
To seek salvation nigh:
The' infallible relief
Assured at last to prove,
And lose my depths of sin and grief
In Thy abyss of love.

One thing I now desire,
While for Thy love I stay,
One blessing instantly require,
And will not be said nay;
To genuine holiness
Till Thou my soul restore,
Give joy or grief, give pain or ease,
But bid me sin no more.