by
1822
New every morning is the love
Our wakening and
uprising prove;
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to
life and power and thought.
New mercies, each returning day,
Hover around us
while we pray;
New perils past, new sins forgiven,
New thoughts of God,
new hopes of heaven.
If, on our daily course, our mind
Be set to hallow
all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide
for sacrifice.
Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more
of heaven in each we see;
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
hall
dawn on every cross and care.
We need not bid, for cloistered cell,
Our neighbor
and our words farewell,
Nor strive to find ourselves too high
For sinful
man beneath the sky.
The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish
all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily
nearer God.
Seek we no more; content with these,
Let present
rapture, comfort, ease—
As heaven shall bid them, come and go:
The
secret this of rest below.
Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect
rest above,
And help us, this and every day,
To live more nearly as we
pray.