Insomnia

Recall, my soul, at eventide
The mercies of the Lord
And how today when thou awok’st
They were to thee restored,
And when tomorrow findeth thee,
Renewed shall their expression be.

Confess, my heart, the debts thou ow’st
And rediscover peace.
Let not the sun go down upon
Just, faithful forgiveness.
Already Christ in vict’ry rose
O’er what thou shrinkest to expose.

Commit, my spirit, to his care
Thine own, and all thy woes,
Who all things worketh for thy good
And all things doth dispose.
For every trial thou dost face
He promiseth sufficient grace.

My soul, find rest in God above
When none is at thy bed.
Adoring and in suppliance,
In prayer be succorèd.
No pillow-talk could be as sweet
As when thou dost thy heav’n-mate meet.

—9/17/2022