HYMN.
Almighty God, when morning light
Breaks the soft slumbers of the night,
Then I delight to steal away
To read thy word, to kneel and pray.
This helps me, as the hours glide by,
To feel that thou art ever nigh:
When sinners tempt with speeches fair,
I recollect my morning prayer.
Nor can I let the evening close,
And on my pillow seek repose,
Until with thankful heart I raise
Once more the voice of prayer and praise.
Let others scorn in prayer to kneel;
Like them, O may I never feel!
Though oft by thoughtless ones reviled,
Still would I be a praying child.
A poor Irishman advertised an old potato-pot for sale; his children gathered around him, and asked him why he parted with it. He replied, “Ah, my honeys, I would not be after parting with it but for a little money to buy something to put in it.”
