Lord, in the morning Thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high;
To Thee will I direct my pray'r,
To Thee lift up mine eye.
Up to the hill where Christ is gone
To plead for all His saints,
Presenting at His Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints.
Thou art God before whose sight
The wicked shall not stand;
Sinners shall ne'er be Thy delight,
Nor dwell at Thy right hand.