SWEETLY our praise awakes, Borne on the morning air; Before the day’s full clamour breaks We meet to offer prayer.
On the lone mountainside, Before the morning’s light, The Man of Sorrows wept and cried, And rose refreshed with might.
While flowers are wet with dews, Dew of our souls descend: Before the sun the day renews; O Lord, Thy Spirit send.
Upon the battlefield Before the fight begins, We seek, O Lord, Thy sheltering shield To guard us from our sins.
Ere yet our vessel sails Upon the stream of day, We plead, O Lord, for heavenly gales To speed us on our way.
O hear us then, for we Are very weak and frail; We make the Saviour’s name our plea, And surely must prevail.
Charles Haddon Spurgeon, 1834-92‡