Your ShelfYour Projects

The Morning Hour

13%

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 12, 1914

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 91, No. 11.

Read the full edition

The Morning Hour

By MINNIE EMBREE PARKER

MINNIE EMBREE PARKER
It came to my heart with a lesson, As the day was beginning to dawn, As the day, with its cares and trials And its blessings, was drawing on, How Jesus, the world's Redeemer, Arose before it was day, And, feeling his human weakness, Found, in secret, a place to pray.
Not even the three disciples Who followed their Lord the best, Were there in his sanctuary; They slumbered as did the rest. And only the stars of heaven, With, perchance, the silver moon, Looked down upon their Creator, Who would suffer and die so soon.
If Jesus, the King of glory, Commander of hosts on high, Must petition for daily succor, What about such a worm as I?
I rest at ease in the morning, Before me a puzzling day; I know not how I shall meet it: But my Saviour arose to pray.
How foolish our human blindness! How hard are our hearts of stone! Why rise we not in the morning And pray to our God alone? There's help for the daily duties, And spiritual strength and power, There's victory for the conflict, To be gained in the morning hour.
If we walk in the Master's footsteps, And follow the path he trod, We must find, in the early morning, A quiet place with God. We must pour out our heart before him, And let him into our life, If we ever shall be the winner Of victory in the strife.