Through the day Thy love hath spared us

Through the day Thy love hath spared us;
Now we lay us down to rest;
Through the silent watches guard us,
Let no foe our peace molest;
Jesus, Thou our Guardian be;
Sweet it is to trust in Thee.

Pilgrims here on earth, and strangers,
Dwelling in the midst of foes,
Us and ours preserve from dangers;
In Thine arms may we repose,
And when life’s brief day is past,
Rest with Thee in heaven at last.
     Thomas Kelly

O God, the Rock of Ages

O God, the Rock of Ages,
Who evermore hast been,
What time the tempest rages,
Our dwelling place serene;
Before Thy first creations,
O Lord, the same as now,
To endless generations
The Everlasting Thou!

Our years are like the shadows
On sunny hills that lie,
Or grasses in the meadows
That blossom but to die;
A sleep, a dream, a story
By strangers quickly told,
An unremaining glory
Of things that soon are old.

O Thou, Who canst not slumber,
Whose light grows never pale,
Teach us aright to number
Our years before they fail;
On us Thy mercy lighten,
On us Thy goodness rest,
And let Thy Spirit brighten
The hearts Thyself hast blessed.
     Edward Henry Bickersteth

Great God! we sing that mighty Hand

Great God! we sing that mighty Hand
By which, supported still, we stand;
The opening year Thy mercy shows;
Let mercy crown it till it close.

By day, by night, at home, abroad,
Still we are guarded by our God;
By His incessant bounty fed,
By His unerring counsel led.

With grateful hearts the past we own;
The future, all to us unknown,
We to Thy guardian care commit,
And, peaceful, leave before Thy feet.

In scenes exalted or depressed,
Thou art our joy, and Thou our rest;
Thy goodness all our hopes shall raise,
Adored through all our changing days.

When death shall interrupt these songs,
And seal in silence mortal tongues,
Our Helper, God, in Whom we trust,
In better worlds our souls shall boast.
     Philip Doddridge

Praise, O praise our God and King

Praise, O praise our God and King;
Hymns of adoration sing;
For His mercies still endure
Ever faithful, ever sure.

Praise Him that He made the sun
Day by day his course to run,
And the silver moon by night,
Shining with her gentle light.

Praise Him that He gave the rain
To mature the swelling grain,
And hath bid the fruitful field
Crops of precious increase yield.

Praise Him for our harvest store,-
He hath filled the garner floor,-
And for richer food than this,
Pledge of everlasting bliss.

Glory to our bounteous King!
Glory let creation sing!
Glory to the Father, Son,
And Blest Spirit, Three in One!
     Henry Williams Baker

It is not death to die

It is not death to die-
To leave this weary road,
And, ‘midst the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

It is not death to close
The eye long dimmed with tears,
And wake in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear
The wrench that sets us free
From dungeon chain, to breathe the air
Of boundless liberty.

It is not death to fling
Aside this sinful dust,
And rise on strong exulting wing
To live among the just.

Jesus, Thou Prince of Life,
Thy chosen cannot die;
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with Thee on high.
     H. A. Cesar Malan Tr George Washington Bethune

O how blest are ye whose toils are ended

O how blest are ye whose toils are ended!
Who, through death, have unto God ascended!
Ye have arisen
From the cares which keep us still in prison.

Christ has wiped away your tears forever;
Ye have that for which we still endeavor.
To you are chanted
Songs that ne’er to moral ears were granted.

Ah! who would then not depart with gladness,
To inherit heaven for earthly sadness?
Who here would languish
Longer in bewailing and in anguish?

Come, O Christ, and loose the chains that bind us!
Lead us forth, and cast this world behind us!
With Thee, th’ Anointed,
Finds the soul its joy and rest appointed.
     Simon Dach  Tr Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Jesus, I know, hath died for me

Jesus, I know, hath died for me:
Here is my hope, my joy, my rest;
Hither, when hell assails, I flee,
I look into my Saviour’s breast.
Away, sad doubt and anxious fear!
Mercy is all that’s written there.

Though waves and storms go o’er my head,
Though strength, and health, and friends be gone;
Though joys be withered all and dead,
Though every comfort be withdrawn;
On this my steadfast soul relies:
Father, Thy mercy never dies.

Fixed on this ground will I remain,
Though my heart fail and strength decay;
This anchor shall my soul sustain,
When earth’s foundations melt away.
Mercy’s full power I then shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.
     Johann Andreas Rothe  Tr John Wesley, altered