LORD's-DAY MORNING

Mine eyes survey the op'ning morn With pleasure and delight; They bid my thankful heart adore The guardian of the night.

'Tis God who caus'd my circling blood To keep its wonted course; And through its various channels run, With new reviving force.

'Tis he who rais'd my cheerful frame, Refresh'd with cordial sleep; 'Tis he supports my feeble soul, And doth my slumbers keep.

Mine eyes with raptures view the day When Jesus left the dead, To shew he vanquish'd death and hell In all his people's stead.

To day he calls his favourite sons To feast on food divine: He feeds his church with living bread, And soul-reviving wine.

O Lord, prepare my longing soul T' approach before thy face: O meet me in thy blest abode, And cheer me with thy grace.

Make every action, word and thought, To thy sole glory move, And every stubborn lust fall down Before thy sov'reign love.

Then will my thankful soul record, How vast thy mercies be; And patient wait, 'till thou shalt say, "Come hither up to me."