Wken I awake I am still with Thee, 89

Still, still with Thee ! as to each new-born morning A fresh and solemn splendor still is given,

So doth this blessed consciousness, awaking, Breathe, each day, nearness unto Thee and heavea

When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber. Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ;

Sweet the repose beneath the wings o'ershading, But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.

So shall it be at last, in that bright morning When the soul waketh and life's shadows flee ;

O, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, Shall rise the glorious thought, lam with Thee!

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