Acknowledging God's Hand. Morning.
1 What secret hand, at morning light,
Softly unseals mine eye,
Draws back the curtain of the night,
And opens earth and sky;
2 'Tis thine, my God,--the same that kept
My resting hours from harm;
No ill came nigh me, for I slept
Beneath th' Almighty's arm.
3 'Tis thine, my daily bread that brings,
Like manna scattered round,
And clothes me, as the lily springs
In beauty from the ground.
4 In death's dark valley though I stray
'Twould there my steps attend,
Guide with the staff my lonely way,
And with the rod defend.
5 May that sure hand uphold me still
Through life's uncertain race,
To bring me to thy holy hill,
And to thy dwelling-place.