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V
The King shall come when morning dawns, And earth's dark night is past;-- O, haste the rising of that morn, That day that aye shall last.
VI
And let the endless bliss begin, By weary saints foretold, When right shall triumph over wrong, And truth shall be extolled.
VII
The King shall come when morning dawns, And light and beauty brings;-- Hail! Christ the Lord; Thy people pray Come quickly, King of kings.
I
Think on me, Lord, for Thou art kind, And I am needy, poor, and blind, And let the gifts Thou hast in store, Enrich me daily, more and more.
II
I have no food my soul to feed, Be Thou my Bread of Life indeed; My parched spirit sighs, O give The stream of Life that I may live.
III
My filthy raiment I disown, Clothe with Thy righteousness alone, And I shall walk approved by Thee, Clad in Thy robe of purity.
IV
I have no strength; in evil hour I fall beneath temptation's power; Be Thou my strength, and I shall stand Upheld by Thine outstretched hand.
V
I cannot see the path to tread, And blindly by my sins am led; Come to my blindness, give me sight That I may shape my course aright.
VI
I cannot live if Thou deny The prayer uplifted with my cry; I cannot die,--in mercy give Thy grace, that I may die or live.
VII
Think on me, Lord, for Thou art kind, And I am needy, poor, and blind; And let the gifts Thou hast in store, Enrich me daily, more and more.
I
Because Thy mercy is so great, Lord, think upon my needy state, And deign to give the help I need,-- The Bread of Life my soul to feed.
II
They cannot live whose souls are fed On what this foolish world calls bread; For lack of food the spirit sighs, And, weak and weary, faints and dies.
III
O may the hidden manna give The strength I need that I may live; And may that life be spent for Thee Who came and lived on earth for me.
IV
O Jesus Christ, the living Bread, Now at the table Thou hast spread, Think of me in my utmost need, And let me on Thy bounties feed.
I
I cannot lift mine eyes, For, O, my sin is great,-- High as the hills that rise Up, up to heaven's gate,-- I cannot lift mine eyes, So great my sin, so great.
II
But I would smite my breast, And bow me at the Cross, And well He knows the rest, My pain, my grief, my loss;-- Yea, I would smite my breast, And bow me at His Cross.
III
Mayhap when I have told The burden of my sin, He'll make my spirit bold, And speak, and soothe, and win;-- All this when I have told The burden of my sin.
IV
Then shall I lift mine eyes, And see the sin removed, And in the radiant skies Behold the Well Beloved;-- Then shall I lift mine eyes, And see my sin removed.
I
When at Thy feet, oppressed, The burdened sinner falls, And, woeful and distressed, Upon Thy mercy calls,-- O hear the penitential prayer, Forgive the burdened sinner there.
II
Did'st Thou not send the Son, To shew the Father's grace, To bid a world undone Arise and seek His face?
And wilt Thou not in mercy say, "Thy many sins I take away"?
III
Yea, Thou wilt not despise The soul's uplifted prayer; Nor when our hopes arise, Plunge us in deep despair; But wilt forgive the evil done, Through Christ the Well Beloved Son.
IV
O Jesus Christ, by Thee The Father's grace is found, And pardon full, and we With every good abound,-- We see Thee nailed upon the tree, And know all blessing comes from Thee.