To prayer; for the day that God has blest, Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest; It speaks of creation's early bloom, It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb. Then summon the spirit's exalted powers, And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours! [Henry Ware, "Seasons of Prayer" (first three stanzas): To prayer, to prayer;--for the morning breaks, And earth in her Maker's smile awakes. His light is on all below and above,-- The light of gladness, and life, and love. Oh, then, on the breath of this early air Send upward the incense of grateful prayer. To prayer;--for the glorious sun is gone, And the gathering darkness of night comes on; Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows, To shade the couch where his children impose. Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright, And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night. To prayer;--for the day that God has blest Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest. It speaks of creation's early bloom; It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb. Then summon the spirit's exalted powers, And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours.]