1 When the great sun sinks to his rest,
His golden glories thrilling me,
And voiceless longings stir my breast,
Then teach me, Lord, to worship Thee.
2 And when the stars— the daylight fled—
In serried, shining ranks I see,
Filling the splendid vault o’erhead,
Then teach me, Lord, to worship Thee.
3 Or if in solemn forest shades
The calm of nature steals o’er me,
And silence all my soul pervades,
Then teach me, Lord, to worship Thee.
4 Not in the sacred shrines alone,
Which chime their summons unto me,
Would I look upward to Thy throne,
But everywhere would worship Thee.
Amen.
Source: The Hymnal #72a