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The Book of Praise.
Wake and lift up thyself, my heart, And with the angels bear thy part, Who, all night long, unwearied sing High praise to the Eternal King.
I wake ! I wake ! Ye heavenly choir, May your devotion me inspire, That I, like you, my age may spend, Like you may on my God attend !
May I, like you, in God delight, Have all day long my God in sight, Perform like you my Maker's will!
0 may I never more do ill!
Had I your wings, to Heaven I'd fly ; But God shall that defect supply ; And my soul, wing'd with warm desire, Shall all day long to Heaven aspire.
All praise to Thee, who safe hast kept, And hast refresh'd me whilst I slept! Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
1 may of endless light partake !
I would not wake, nor rise again, And Heaven itself I would disdain, Wert Thou not there to be enjoy'd, And I in hymns to be employ'd !
Heaven is, dear Lord, where'er Thou art; O never then from me depart! For, to my soul, 'tis hell to be But for one moment void of Thee.
Lord, I my vows to Thee renew ; Disperse my sins as morning dew ; |
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