LORD, in the morning Thou shalt hear My voice ascending high; To Thee will I direct my prayer, To Thee lift up mine eye . . .
Up to the place where Christ is gone, My advocate on high, Presenting at the Father’s throne, Each song, and every sigh.
O holy Lord, before Whose sight No evil ways shall stand, Who has in sinners no delight, Nor place at Thy right hand . . .
To this Thy house will I resort, To taste Thy mercies here; I’ll pray within Thy holy court, And worship and revere.
O may Thy Spirit guide my feet In ways of righteousness; Make every path of duty straight And plain before my face.
All they that love and trust Thy name Shall see their hopes fulfilled; For Thou, O Lord, wilt compass them With favour as a shield.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748‡