In the hush of early morning,
When the breeze is whispering low,
There’s a voice that gently calls me,
And its accents well I know;
Here I am, O Savior, waiting,
For Thy will alone is mine;
This is all my crown and glory:
I am Thine, and only Thine.
When the noontide falls upon me,
With its fervid lightening ray,
There’s a voice divinely earnest,
Bids me work while it is day;
Open, Savior, now before me
All Thy will for me to do;
Only help me, watching, working,
Still to keep my Lord in view.
As the dewy shades steal downward
O’er the earth at evening mild,
There’s a voice I love that whispers,
After labor, rest, My child.
O my Savior, loving, tender,
Help me to account it blest
Thus to work within Thy vineyard,
Till Thou callest me to rest.