1 Come, my soul, thou must be waking.
Now is breaking
O'er the earth another day:
Come, to Him who made this splendor,
See thou render
All thy feeble strength can pay.
2 Gladly hail the sun returning,
Be the incense of thy powers;
For the night is safely ended,
God hath tended
With His care thy helpless hours.
3 Pray that He may prosper ever
When thine aim is good and true;
And that He may ever thwart thee,
And convert thee,
When thou evil wouldst pursue.
4 Think that He thy ways beholdeth;
Every fault that lurks within;
He the hidden shame glossed over
And discern each deed of sin.
5 Mayest thou on life's last morrow,
Free from sorrow,
Pass away in slumber sweet;
And, released from death's dark sadness,
Rise in gladness
That far brighter Sun to greet.
6 Only God's free gifts abuse not,
Light refuse not,
But His Spirit's voice obey;
Thou with Him shalt dwell, beholding
All things in unclouded day.
|First Line:||Come, my soul, thou must be waking|
|Author:||F. R. L. Canitz, 1654-1699|
|Translator:||Henry J. Buckoll (1838)|
|Topic:||Daily Prayer: Morning|
|Composer:||Franz Joseph Haydn (1791, arr.)|
|Incipit:||34234 56215 55543|