[Written for the Sentinel.]

The New Day

Lord , when the wistful gray of new day—breaking
Deepens to joyous gold,—maturer morn,—
Gladly my heart, its fears of night forsaking,
Turneth to Thee, in whom all hope is born.
Teach me to know, as ever Thou hast known,
I am Thine own.

When, in the glory of the clear noon hour,
With purer eyes and thought renewed, I see
The rose of Truth unfold to radiant flower,
And all of earth reflecting only Thee,
Teach me to labor for Thy sake alone;
I am Thine own.

Cometh Thy evening light! I thank Thee, Father,—
Thee, whom the nations of the earth adore.
Into that rest where Thy beloved gather,
Tranquil I walk with Thee, forevermore
Conscious of this,—Thy kingdom and Thy throne!
And I, Thine own!

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
God and His Likeness
June 3, 1905
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit