My God, is any hour so sweet,
From blush of morn to evening star,
As that which calls me to Thy feet,
The hour of prayer?
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 that blissful shore,
No privilege so dear shall be
A thus my inmost soul to pour
In prayer to Thee.