When Streaming From The Eastern Skies

When, streaming from the eastern skies,
The morning light salutes mine eyes,
O Sun of Righteousness divine,
On me with beams of mercy shine;
Chase the dark clouds of guilt away
And turn my darkness into day.

When, to Heaven’s great and glorious King
My morning sacrifice I bring,
And, mourning o’er my guilt and shame,
Ask mercy in my Savior’s Name,
Then Jesus, sprinkle with Thy blood,
And be my advocate with God.

As every day Thy mercy spares
Will bring its trials and its cares,
O Savior, till my life shall end,
Be Thou my counselor and friend:
Teach me Thy precepts, all divine,
And be Thy great example mine.

When pain transfixes every part,
Or languor settles at the heart;
When on my bed, diseased, oppressed,
I turn, and sigh, and long for rest;
O great Physician, see my grief,
And grant Thy servant sweet relief.

Should poverty’s consuming blow
Lay all my worldly comforts low;
And neither help nor hope appear
My steps to guide, my heart to cheer;
Lord, pity and supply my need,
For Thou, on earth, wast poor indeed.

Should Providence profusely pour
Its various blessings on my store;
O keep me from the ills that wait
On such a seeming prosperous state:
From hurtful passions set me free,
And humbly may I walk with Thee.

When each day’s scenes and labors close,
And wearied nature seeks repose,
With pardoning mercy richly blest,
Guard me, my Savior, while I rest;
And, as each morning sun shall rise,
O lead me onward to the skies.

And, at my life’s last setting sun,
My conflicts o’er, my labors done,
Jesus, thine heavenly radiance shed,
To cheer and bless my dying bed;
And, from death’s gloom my spirit raise,
To see Thy face and sing Thy praise.

Hymnal: according to the use of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America,