Secret Prayer (Crosby)

There is an hour of calm re­lief

From ev­ery throb­bing care;

’Tis when

be­fore a throne of grace

I kneel in sec­ret pray­er.

O that voice

to me so dear

Breathing soft on my ear!

Weary child

look up and see;

’Tis thy Sav­ior speaks to thee.

When one by one

like threads of gold

The hues of twi­light fall

O sweet com­mun­ion with my God

My Sav­ior and my all!

I hear se­raph­ic tones that float

Amid ce­les­ti­al air

And bathe my soul in streams of joy

Alone in sec­ret pray­er.

O when the hour of death shall come

How sweet from thence to rise

With pray­er on earth my lat­est breath

My watch­word to the skies.