Hymns and Odes for Temperance Occasions XII

John Pierpont

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Source of being, Holy Father,
With the day's returning light,
Round our board with thanks we gather,
For the mercies of the night:

Mercies that the stars outnumber,
Which their silent courses keep,--
Angel guards that never slumber,--
While we lie and safely sleep.

Pillows, wet with tears of anguish,
Couches, pressed in sleepless woe,
Where the sons of Belial languish,
Father, may we never know!

For, the maddening cup shall never
To our thirsting lips be pressed,
But, our draft shall be, for ever,
The cold water thou hast blessed.

This shall give us strength to labor,
This, make all our stores increase;
This, with thee and with our neighbour,
Bind us in the bonds of peace.

For the lake, the well, the river,
Water-brook, and crystal spring,
Do we now, to thee, the Giver,
Thanks, our daily tribute, bring.

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