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THE CLOSET OF PRAYER

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Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 5, 1861

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 17, No. 16.

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THE CLOSET OF PRAYER.

TUNE—My rest is in heaven.

My closet, my temple, my social retreat, It's there with my Saviour in concert I meet; How many the objects inviting me there, To pour out my soul in the order of prayer.
How sweet is the morning, how bright is the view, When the fields and the woodlands are dripping with dew, The fragrance of blossoms perfuming the air, Invites to my closet, invites me to prayer.
When tempests arise and stormy winds blow, And all the deep future is darkness and woe, I have a pavilion to which I repair, And rest in my closet, my temple of prayer.
When the shades of the twilight spread over the lawn, The day is retiring and evening comes on, The voice of the songsters that slips through the air, Invites to my closet, invites me to prayer.
When shades of great darkness come over my heart, And I fear that my God is about to depart, I come to my closet and find him still there, His hands filled with blessings in answer to prayer.
I bless the glad day when his grace I first felt, His mercy then saved me and cancelled my guilt; I will visit my closet and never despair, It was there my Redeemer first answered my prayer.