My God, is any hour so sweet,
From blush of mora to evening star,
As that which calls me to Thy feet —
The hour of prayer?
Then is my strength by Thee renewed;
Then are my sins by Thee forgiven;
Then dost Thou cheer my solitude,
With hopes of heaven.
No words can tell what sweet relief
Here for my every want I find:
What strength for warfare, balm for grief,
What peace of mind!
Hushed is each doubt, gone every fear;
My spirit seems in heaven to stay;
And e'en the penitential tear
Is wiped away.
Lord, till I reach yon blissful shore,
No privilege so dear shall be
As thus my inmost soul to pour
In prayer to Thee.