O Lord, ano­ther day is flown,
And we, a lone­ly band,
Are met once more be­fore Thy throne,
To bless Thy fos­ter­ing hand.

And wilt Thou bend a list­en­ing ear
To prais­es low as ours?
Thou wilt! for Thou dost love to hear
The song which meek­ness pours.

And Je­sus, Thou Thy smiles wilt deign
As we be­fore Thee pray;
For Thou didst bless the in­fant train,
And we are less then they.

Thy heav’n­ly grace to each impart;
All ev­il far re­move;
And shed abroad in ev­ery heart
Thine ev­er­last­ing love.

And Thou wilt turn our wan­der­ing feet,
And Thou wilt bless our way,
Till worlds shall fade, and faith shall greet
The dawn of end­less day.

Our souls, obe­di­ent to Thy sway,
In Chris­tian bonds unite;
Let peace and love con­clude the day,
And hail the morn­ing light.

Thus chast­ened, cleansed, en­tire­ly Thine,
A flock by Je­sus led—
The sun of ho­li­ness shall shine
In glo­ry on our head.