NIGHT THOUGHT - Christian Harmony (Ingalls)



How can I sleep when angels sing
And all the saints on high,
Cry glory to the'eternal King,
The Lamb that once did die?

When guardian angels fill the room,
And hov'ring 'round my bed,
Do clap their wings in love to Him,
Who is my glorious head?

O! how can I inactive lie
And thoughtless all the night,
When those celestial spirits praise
The Lord with all their might?

Such joyful spirits never sleep,
Their love is ever new;
Then Oh, my soul no longer cease
To love and praise Him, too.

For I, of all the race that fell,
Or all the heavenly host,
Have greatest cause with humbler soul,
To love and praise Him most.

Did God the Father love men so,
As to give up His Son,
To be a ransom, and redeem them
From the sins they'd done?

Did Jesus leave the Father's breast,
That heaven of heavens on high
To come to earth, this world of woe,
For guilty worms to die?

And has the Holy Ghost apply'd
The blood of Christ to me
To cleanse my guilty soul from sin,
And set my spririt free?

With me O heaven and earth admire,
Who am of all the race,
The chiefest sinner, and deserve
In hell the hottest place.

Yet mercy here and truth doth meet
And God can justify
Thro' Jesus Christ's most precious blood
So vile a wretch as I.

No longer then will I lie here,
But rise and praise and pray;
And join to sing while I enjoy
A glimpse of heav'nly day.

I'll view the glories of the Lord,
And serve Him all my days,
For what He in His essence is,
My soul shall sing His praise.

Such glories bind my soul to Him,
While them, by faith, I see.
For, adore Him, O, my soul,
And for His gifts to me.

Thanks to the Father for His Son,
To Christ for righteousness,
And to the Spirit, 'cause that He
My soul in it did dress.

Lord, give me strength to die to sin,
To run the Christian race;
To live to God, and glorify
The riches of His grace.

My lovely Jesus, while on earth,
Did rise before 'twas day,
And to a solitary place
He went and there did pray.

Now let all drowsiness be gone,
Let me enjoy my Lord,
And let my mind be swallow'd up
In His eternal word.

If meditations all divine,
At midnight fill my soul;
Sleep shall no longer all my powers
And faculties control.

But I'll arise and sing and pray,
And spend such hours of joy,
In praising Him whose Name doth all
My heart and tongue employ.

Yet if my nature doth require,
From sleep a little rest;
Dear Jesus let it be be no more
Than Thou shalt think it best.

probably by Jeremiah Ingalls, 1804.
Psalm 77:6.