Once more, my soul, the rising day
Salutes thy waking eyes;
Once more, my voice, thy tribute pay
To Him that rules the skies.
Night unto night His Name repeats,
The day renews the sound,
Wide as the Heav�n on which He sits,
To turn the seasons round.
�Tis He supports my mortal frame,
My tongue shall speak His praise;
My sins would rouse His wrath to flame,
And yet His wrath delays.
On a poor worm Thy power might tread,
And I could ne�er withstand;
Thy justice might have crushed me dead,
But mercy held Thine hand.
A thousand wretched souls are fled
Since the last setting sun,
And yet Thou length�nest out my thread,
And yet my moments run.
Dear God, let all my hours be Thine,
Whilst I enjoy the light;
Then shall my sun in smiles decline,
And bring a pleasing night.
