When, Streaming from the Eastern Skies

When

stream­ing from the east­ern skies

The morn­ing light sa­lutes mine eyes

O sun of right­eous­ness di­vine

On me with beams of mer­cy shine;

Chase the dark clouds of sin away

And turn my dark­ness in­to day.

When to Heav’ns great and glo­ri­ous king

My morn­ing sac­ri­fice I bring

And

griev­ing o’er my guilt and shame

Ask mer­cy

Sav­ior

in Thy name

My cons­cience sprin­kle with Thy blood

And be my ad­vo­cate with God.

As ev­ery day Thy mer­cy spares

Will bring its tri­als and its cares;

O Sav­ior

till my life shall end

Be Thou my coun­sel­or and my friend.

Teach me Thy pre­cepts

all di­vine

And be Thy pure ex­am­ple mine.

When pain trans­fix­es ev­ery part

Or lang­uor set­tles at the heart;

When on my bed

dis­eased

op­pressed

I turn

and sigh

and long for rest;

O great Phy­si­cian! see my grief

And grant Thy serv­ant sweet re­lief.

Should po­ver­ty’s de­struct­ive blow

Lay all my world­ly com­forts low;

And nei­ther help nor hope ap­pear

My steps to guide

my heart to cheer;

Lord

pi­ty and sup­ply my need

For Thou

on earth

wast poor in­deed.

Should pro­vi­dence pro­fuse­ly pour

Its va­ried bless­ings in my store;

O keep me from the ills that wait

On such a seem­ing pros­per­ous state:

From hurt­ful pass­ions set me free

And hum­bly may I walk with Thee.

When each day’s scenes and la­bors close

And wea­ried na­ture seeks re­pose

With par­don­ing mer­cy

rich­ly blest

Guard me

my Sav­ior

while I rest;

And as each morn­ing’s sun shall rise

Oh

lead me on­ward to the skies!

And at my life’s last set­ting sun

My con­flict o’er

my la­bor done

Jesus

Thy heav’n­ly ra­di­ance shed

To cheer and bless my dy­ing bed

And from death’s gloom my spir­it raise

To see Thy face and sing Thy praise.