1. At the Dawn

p. 1p. 2 1 AT THE DAWN At the dawn I seek Thee, Rock and refuge tried, In due service speak Thee Morn and eventide. ‘Neath Thy greatness shrinking, Stand I sore afraid, All my secret thinking Bare before Thee laid. Little to Thy glory Heart or tongue can do; Small remains the story, Add we spirit too. Yet since man’s praise ringing May seem good to Thee, I will praise Thee singing While Thy breath’s in me.