« Prev The Sun That Ne’er Goes Down Next »

The Sun That Ne’er Goes Down

John Keble, 1827.

Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear,

It is not night if Thou be near;

O may no earthborn cloud arise

To hide Thee from Thy servant’s eyes.

When the soft dews of kindly sleep

My wearied eyelids gently steep,

Be my last thought, how sweet to rest

Forever on my Saviour’s breast.

Abide with me from morn till eve,

For without Thee I cannot live;

Abide with me when night is nigh,

For without Thee I dare not die.

If some poor wandering child of Thine

Have spurned today the voice divine,

Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;

Let him no more lie down in sin.

Watch by the sick; enrich the poor

With blessings from Thy boundless store;

Be every mourner’s sleep tonight,

Like infant’s slumber, pure and light.

Come near and bless us when we wake,

Ere through the world our way we take;

Till in the ocean of Thy love

We lose ourselves in heaven above.

« Prev The Sun That Ne’er Goes Down Next »
VIEWNAME is workSection