The Morning of the Lord's Day

Verse 1

Early, my God, without delay, I haste to seek Thy face; My thirsty spirit faints away, My thirsty spirit faints away, Without Thy cheering grace.

Verse 2

So pilgrims on the scorching sand, Beneath a burning sky, Long for a cooling stream at hand, Long for a cooling stream at hand, And they must drink or die.

Verse 3

Not life itself, with all its joys, Can best my passions move, Or raise so high my cheerful voice, Or raise so high my cheerful voice, As Thy forgiving love.

Verse 4

Thus, till my last expiring day, I'll bless my God and King; Thus will I lift my hands to pray, Thus will I lift my hands to pray, And tune my lips to sing.