What secret hand at morning light,
By stealth unseals mine eye,
Draws back the curtain of the night,
And opens earth and sky?
'Tis Thine, my God - the same that kept
My resting hours from harm;
No ill came nigh me, for I slept
Beneath th' Almighty's arm.
'Tis Thine - my daily bread that brings,
Like manna scatter'd round,
And clothes me, as the lily springs
In beauty from the ground.
This is the hand that shaped my frame,
And gave me pulse to beat;
That bears me oft through flood and flame,
Through tempest, cold, and heat.
In death's dark valley though I stray,
'Twould there my steps attend;
Guide with the staff my lonely way,
And with the rod defend.
May that dear hand uphold me still,
Through life's uncertain race,
To bring me to Thine holy hill,
And to Thy dwelling-place.
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Comments about this poem (Morning Thoughts by James Montgomery )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- THIS LIFE IS UP-SIDE-DOWN هذه الحياة متك.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Islands of Flowers, Marilyn Lott
- Home-makers, Dr Deena Padayachee
- I APOLOGIZE FOR YOU, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- On your toe, shubham sutar
- I don't know what to think of it, shubham sutar
- you lives in me, shubham sutar
- I broke your heart, shubham sutar
- I APOLGIZE FOR YOU انا بعتذرلك, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- art uncle jude, binod bastola