Hymns from the Morningland Part 18

III

Let suns.h.i.+ne flood the soul, When threatening night descends, That I may see the light serene No sunset ever ends.

Where gladness fills each heart, etc.

IV

Let strength my spirit nerve, That, with each labour done, I may, like those who serve above, See some new task begun;

Where gladness fills each heart, etc.

V

The time is drawing near,-- Till that bright morning break, May I, with those who see Thy face, Thy will, my pleasure make:

Where gladness fills each heart, etc.

I

I will not yield my sword, I will not bow the knee, But I would hear the blessed word That calls my soul to Thee; And through the din of war, And in the midst of strife, That word shall be the guiding star To lead me on to life.

II

And in the midst of snares Which subtle fingers lay, I shall not stumble unawares Upon the upward way; But keep before my eyes The goal before me set, Lest I should miss the glorious prize Which loyal victors get.

III

O Christ, Who art my King, Thy cause I make mine own, Till proud rebellious foes shall bring Their homage to Thy throne; Till then my heart revive With courage brave and strong, And steel my feeble arm to strive Against the power of wrong.

IV

When from the fateful field I hail my rightful King, To Him my trusty sword I'll yield, And all my trophies bring; And He shall crown my head With honours richer far Than trophies from the conquered dead, And all the spoils of war.

I

If in the cause of right I must, Do battle with the sword, Then, let me follow Him I trust, My chosen King and Lord.

II

As Captain in the mortal fight, He knows the foe I fear; His presence fires my soul with might, And fills my heart with cheer.

III

If I should see Him ever near, When blows unceasing fall, I shall no flaunting banner fear, Nor loudest battle call.

IV

And in the thickest of the strife, No polished shaft I'll dread, For He preserves my soul in life, In battle s.h.i.+elds my head.

V

No power shall in the fight prevail, No subtle gin ensnare, Though all the hosts of h.e.l.l a.s.sail, And guile the fraud prepare.

VI

Lord, gird me with Thy armour bright, And lead me forth to win, For I would battle for the right Against the might of sin.

I

The Christ on Olive's mount in prayer His heart to G.o.d exprest; And as they held sweet converse there, His soul with peace was blest.

II

Far from the din of troubled life, The tumult, and the swell, A silence, stilling earthly strife, Upon His spirit fell.

III

And there a voice whose soothing tone The trusting spirit filled, Came with that grace by which alone Our great unrest is stilled.

IV

O may the blessed thought, divine, That moved the Christ to prayer, Our weary, anxious souls incline Like peace and joy to share;

V

And on the mount where G.o.d is met, May we the solace know, That found His soul on Olivet, Who shared our life below.

I

Like music at the stilly hour, When twilight veils the light of day, A gentle voice, with winning power, Allured me from the world away.

II

It made me sad, because I thought That love undying I could spurn; It made me glad, because it brought A loving message in return.

III