Exhortation to Prayer

Not on a prayerless bed, not on a prayerless bed Compose thy weary limbs to rest; For they alone are blessed With balmy sleep Whom angels keep; Nor, though by care oppressed, Or anxious sorrow, Or thought in many a coil perplexed For coming morrow, Lay not thy head On prayerless bed. For who can tell, when sleep thine eyes shall close, That earthly cares and woes To thee may e’er return? Arouse, my soul! Slumber control, And let thy lamp burn brightly; So shall thine eyes discern Things pure and sightly; Taught by the Spirit, learn Never on a prayerless bed To lay thine unblest head. Hast thou no pining want, or wish, or care, That calls for holy prayer? Has thy day been so bright That in its flight There is no trace of sorrow? And thou art sure to-morrow Will be like this, and more Abundant? Dost thou yet lay up thy store And still make plans for more? Thou fool! this very night Thy soul may wing its flight. Hast thou no being than thyself more dear, That ploughs the ocean deep, And when storms sweep The wintry, lowering sky, For whom thou wak’st and weepest? Oh, when thy pangs are deepest, Seek then the covenant ark of prayer; For He that slumbereth not is there— His ear is open to thy cry. Oh, then, on prayerless bed Lay not thy thoughtless head. Arouse thee, weary soul, nor yield to slumber, Till in communion blest With the elect ye rest— Those souls of countless numbers; And with them raise The note of praise, Reaching from earth to heaven— Chosen, redeemed, forgiven; So lay thy happy head, Prayer-crowned, on blessèd bed.