L.M. [82]Hursley: Vienna, c.1774 John Keble, 1820 Sun of my soul, thou Savior dear, It is not night if thou be near; O may no earthborn cloud arise To hide thee from thy servant's eyes. When the soft dews of kindly sleep My weary eyelids gently steep, Be my last thought, how sweet to rest For ever on my Savior's breast. Abide with me from morn till eve, For without thee I cannot live; Abide with me when night is nigh, For without thee I dare not die. If some poor wandering child of thine Have spurned today the voice divine, Now, Lord, the gracious work begin; Let him no more lie down in sin. Watch by the sick; enrich the poor With blessings from thy boundless store; Be every mourner's sleep tonight, Like infant's slumbers, pure and light. Come near and bless us when we wake, Ere through the world our way we take, Till in the ocean of thy love We lose ourselves in heaven above. Amen. |