2 When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.
3 Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
4 If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin,
Let him no more lie down in sin.
5 Watch by the sick, enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night,
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.
6 Come near and bless us when we wake, Ere through the world our way we take; Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves in heaven above.
'At even, when the sun did set, they brought unto Him all that were diseased.
1 Ar even, ere the sun was set,
The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay;
Oh, in what divers pains they met!
Oh, with what joy they went away!
2 Once more 'tis eventide, and we Oppressed with various ills draw near: What if Thy form we cannot see,
We know and feel that Thou art here.
3 O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel;
For some are sick and some are sad, And some have never loved Thee well, And some have lost the love they had;
4 And some have found the world is vain,
Yet from the world they break not free;
And some have friends who give them pain,
Yet have not sought a friend in Thee;
5 And none, O Lord, have perfect rest,
For none are wholly free from sin;
And they, who fain would serve Thee best,
Are conscious most of wrong within.
6 Thy touch has still its ancient power; No word from Thee can fruitless fall; Hear in this solemn evening hour,
And in Thy mercy heal us all.
"Neither shall any plague come nigh
1 SAVIOUR, breathe an evening blessing,
Ere repose our spirits seal;
Sin and want we come confessing;
Thou canst save and Thou canst heal.
Though the night be dark and dreary,
Darkness cannot hide from Thee;
Thou art He who, never weary,
Watchest where Thy people be.
2 Though destruction walk around us,
Though the arrow past us fly,
Angel-guards from Thee surround us;
We are safe, if Thou art nigh.
Should swift death this night o'ertake us,
And our couch become our tomb,
May the morn in heaven awake us,
Clad in light and deathless bloom.
'And the Sabbath drew on.'
1 SAFELY through another week,
God hath brought us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek,
On th' approaching Sabbath-day,—
Day of all the week the best,
Emblem of eternal rest.
2 Mercies, multiplied each hour
Through the week, our praise demand,
Guarded by Almighty power,
Fed and guided by His hand.
From our worldly cares set free,
May we rest this night with Thee;
3 When the morn shall bid us rise,
May we feel Thy presence near;
May Thy glory meet our eyes,
When we in Thy house appear;
There afford us, Lord, a taste
Of our everlasting feast.
'Thou crownest the year with Thy goodness.'
1 ETERNAL Source of every joy,
Well may Thy praise our lips employ,
While in Thy temple we appear,
Whose goodness crowns the circling year.
2 While, as the wheels of nature roll,
Thy hand supports the steady pole,
The sun is taught by Thee to rise,
And darkness, when to veil the skies.
3 The flowery spring at Thy command
Embalms the air and paints the land;
The summer rays with vigour shine
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
4 Thy hand in autumn richly pours
Through all our coasts redundant stores;
And winters, softened by Thy care,
No more a face of horror wear.
5 Seasons and months and weeks and days
Demand successive songs of praise;
Still be the cheerful homage paid,
With opening light and evening shade.
'He reserveth unto us the appointed
weeks of the harvest.'
1 FOUNTAIN of mercy, God of love,
How rich Thy bounties are!
The rolling seasons, as they move,
Proclaim Thy constant care.
2 When in the bosom of the earth
The sower hid the grain,
Thy goodness marked its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.
3 The spring's sweet influence was Thine;
The plants in beauty grew;
Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine,
And mild refreshing dew.
4 These various mercies from above
Matured the swelling grain;
A yellow harvest crowns Thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.
5 Seed-time and harvest, Lord, alone
Thou dost on man bestow;
Let him not then forget to own
From whom his blessings flow
6 Fountain of love, our praise is Thine;
To Thee our songs we'll raise,
And all created nature join
In sweet, harmonious praise.
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