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Day and Night. 283
All loose, all idle thoughts cast out, And make my very dreams devout!
Praise God from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below ! Praise Him above, ye heavenly host; Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
Bishop Thomas Ken. 1695—1709.
CCLXVI.
Midnight.
Awake, my soul, awake to prayer ; Thy vigil of the night prepare : Now all around is dark and still, Angels defending us from ill.
The time to sacred thought is dear, When Thou alone, good Lord, art near ; Hush'd is the world's external din, That we may hear Thy voice within.
It seems to plead with gentle breath ; " Sad child of frailty, heir of death, " Its rest thy wearied body knows ; " O ! let thy soul on Me repose !
" I came to suffer in thy stead ; " I had not where to lay My head : " Think on the love, that could provide " Blessings for man, to God denied !"
Thus silent hours of darkness prove Remembrancers of Jesu's love ; While constancy in prayer we learn From each succeeding night's return. |
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