CCXLVI. Once more, my soul, the rising day

1 Once more, my soul, the rising day,
Salutes thy waking eyes;
Once more, my voice thy tribute pay
To him who rules the skies.

2 Night unto night his name repeats,
The day renews the sound,
Wide as theheav’n on which he sits,
To turn the seasons round.

3 ’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.

4 [On a poor worm thy pow'r might tread,
And I could ne’er withstand;
Thy justice might have crush'd me dead,
But mercy held thine hand.

5 A thousand wretched souls are fled
Since the last setting sun,
And yet Thou length’nest out my thread,
And yet my moments run.]

6 Dear God, let all my hours be thine,
Whilst I enjoy the light;
Then shall my sun in smiles decline,
And bring a pleasant night.

Text Information
First Line: Once more, my soul, the rising day
Author: Watts
Meter: C. M.
Publication Date: 1816
Topic: Morning Hymns
Tune Information
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