On the dewy breath of even
Thousand odors mingling rise,
Borne like incense up to heaven,—
Nature’s evening sacrifice.
With her fragrant offerings blending,
Let our glad thanksgivings be
To Thy throne, O Lord, ascending,—
Incense of our hearts to Thee.
Thou, whose favors without number
All our days with gladness bless,
Let Thine eye, that knows no slumber,
Guard our hours of helplessness.
Then, though conscious we are sleeping
In the outer courts of death,
Safe beneath a Father’s keeping,
Calm we rest in perfect faith.
|First Line:||On the dewy breath of even|
|Instances (1 - 1 of 1)||Title||First Line||Tune||Tune Key||Author||Meter||Scripture||Date||Subject||Source|
|The Cyber Hymnal #9392||On The Dewy Breath Of Even||On the dewy breath of even||CRAWFORD||Julia A. Elliott||87.87.87||First published anonymously in her husband's <cite>Psalms and Hymns</cite> (1835), it was acknowledged in the 1839 <cite>Third Thousand</cite> by the addition of her initials in the index|