At Vespers by Llewellyn A. Morrison

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Jan 23, 1912

At Vespers

By Llewellyn A. Morrison

"Hallowed be Thy name"

Hush thee, my soul! While the silence falleth Around thy spirit, in peace profound, Thou art at the place where Jehovah calleth, And where thou prayest is holy ground. With rev'rent grace bow thee low before Him; Thy muse of His matchless greatness sings; The ransomed throngs of the heavens adore Him — The Lord, Almighty, the King of Kings.

Thou art His; He loveth thee; alone He waiteth; To have thee tell Him what thou wouldst be; To learn of the gifts which thy temper rateth Above all others for Him and thee. Let words be few when thou drawest near Him; He knoweth thy thought when thou thinkest true; Come in and listen; rejoice to hear Him. There is no bound to what He can do.

His name is nigh when the morning waketh; He walketh beside us the whole day long; Our cross He beareth and burden taketh; He is our solace, delight, and song. There is no power, in the world we live in, Apart from Him and His blessed will; There is no grace, the gifts we give in, Unless His blessing abideth still.

We wait for Him. He forsaketh us never; He sent His Son to redeem from sin; He is Lord of death and of life, forever; We hear Him calling, and enter in; We find the fulness where He abideth, — The perfect sweetness and peace at last. Our hearts in His wounded hands He hideth Until the travail is overpast.