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Isaac Watts - Hymn 8
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A hymn for morning or evening.

Hosannah, with a cheerful sound,
To God`s upholding hand;
Ten thousand snares attend us round,
And yet secure we stand.

That was a most amazing power
That raised us with a word,
And every day and every hour
We lean upon the Lord.

The evening rests our weary head,
And angels guard the room;
We wake, and we admire the bed
That was not made our tomb.

The rising morning can`t assure
That we shall end the day;
For death stands ready at the door
To seize our lives away.

Our breath is forfeited by sin
To God`s avenging law;
We own thy grace, immortal King,
In every gasp we draw.

God is our sun, whose daily light
Our joy and safety brings;
Our feeble flesh lies safe at night
Beneath his shady wings.
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