I lie awake. Ps. cii. 7.
I know not how I ought to pray
In watches of the night,
When cares and sorrows on me weigh,
And sleep hath no delight.
Be near me, O my God, be near!
No other help can be.
If thou wilt sleep deny me here,
Still let me rest in thee.
I wish that I had wings to sail,
To like the dove retreat,
From ev’ry raging wind and gale
That earthward bind my feet.
I cast my burdens on thy grace—
O haste to hear my pleas!—
And ‘neath thee other hopes abase,
Assured that thou art peace.
Thou bidd’st me seek thy glorious face;
O give me heart to seek
Thy sov’reign beauty all my days,
Enthroned on Zion’s peak.
I long to seek no earthly toy,
But only, ever thee,
Who art my portion and my joy,
My God eternally.
Short as the watches of the night
My weary days pass on,
But as their watchmen with delight
Anticipate the dawn,
So to thy rise I lift my gaze,
O righteous, Sabbath Sun,
And set my heart to hope and praise
Till thou hast morn begun.
—7/4/26. To “Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul” (Twit) or “Kingsfold.” Insomnia IV.
