C. M.
A hymn for morning or evening.
Hosannah, with a cheerful sound,
To God's upholding hand;
Ten thousand snares attend us round,
And yet secure we stand.
That was a most amazing power
That raised us with a word,
And every day and every hour
We lean upon the Lord.
The evening rests our weary head,
And angels guard the room;
We wake, and we admire the bed
That was not made our tomb.
The rising morning can't assure
That we shall end the day;
For death stands ready at the door
To seize our lives away.
Our breath is forfeited by sin
To God's avenging law;
We own thy grace, immortal King,
In every gasp we draw.
God is our sun, whose daily light
Our joy and safety brings;
Our feeble flesh lies safe at night
Beneath his shady wings.