  May He Who sets the holy and profane Apart, blot out our sins before His sight, And make our numbers as the sand again, And as the stars of night. The day declineth like the palm-tree's shade, I call on God, Who leadeth me aright, The morning cometh—thus the watchman said— Although it now be night. Thy righteousness is like Mount Tabor vast, Oh! let my sins be wholly put to flight, Be they as yesterday, forever past, And as a watch at night. The peaceful season of my prayers is o'er, Would that again had rest my soul contrite, Weary am I of groaning evermore, I melt in tears each night. Hear Thou my voice: be it not vainly sped, Open to me the gates of lofty height, For with the evening dew is filled my head, My locks with drops of night. Oh! grant me Thy redemption, while I pray, Be Thou entreated, Lord of power and might, In twilight, in the evening of the day, Yea, in the gloom of night. Save me, O Lord my God! I call on Thee: Make me to know the path of life aright, [pg 390]From sore and wasting sickness snatch Thou me, Lead me from day to night. We are like clay within Thy hand, O Lord! Forgive us all our sins, both grave and light, And day shall unto day pour forth the word And night declare to night. May He Who sets the holy and profane Apart, blot out our sins before His sight, And make our numbers as the sand again, And as the stars of night. Anon. |
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