125. Matins—Monday
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Somno refectis artubus.
SLEEP has refresh'd our limbs, we spring
From off our bed, and rise;
Lord, on Thy suppliants, while they sing,
Look with a Father's eyes.
Be Thou the first on every tongue,
The first in every heart;
That at all our doings all day long,
Holiest! from Thee may start.
Cleanse Thou the gloom, and bid the light
Its healing beams renew;
The sins, which have crept in with night,
With night shall vanish too. {216}
Our bosoms, Lord, unburthen Thou,
Let nothing there offend;
That those who hymn Thy praises now
May hymn them to the end.
Grant this, O Father, Only Son,
And Spirit, God of grace,
To whom all worship shall be done
In every time and place.