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The Lord's Day. 331
'Tis light at evening time when Thou art present; Thy coming to the eleven in that dim room
Brightened, O Christ! its gloom : So bless my lonely hour that memories pleasant Around the time a heavenly gleam may cast,
Which many days shall last !
Raise each low aim, refine each high emotion, That with more ardent footstep I may press
Toward Thy holiness ; And, braced for sacred duty by devotion, Support my cross along that rugged road
Which Thou hast sometime trod !
I long to see Thee, for my heart is weary :
O when, my Lord ! in kindness wilt Thou come
To call Thy banished home ? The scenes are cheerless, and the days are dreary ; From sorrow and from sin I would be free,
And evermore with Thee !
Even now I see the golden city shining Up the blue depths of that transparent air :
How happy all is there ! There breaks a day which never knows declining ; A Sabbath, through whose circling hours the blest
Beneath Thy shadow rest!
James D. Burns. 1854.
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CCCXIV.
Psalm XCII.
Sweet is the work, my God, my King, To praise Thy Name, give thanks and sing, To show Thy love by morning light, And talk of all Thy truth at night. |
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