1 Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high;
To thee I will direct my pray'r,
To thee lift up mine eye.

2 Up to the hills where Christ is gone
To plead for all his saints,
Presenting at his Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints.

3 Thou art a God, before whose sight
The wicked shall not stand;
Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight,
Nor dwell at thy right-hand.

4 But to thy house will I resort,
to taste thy mercies there;
I will frequent thine holy court,
And worship in thy fear.

5 O may the Spirit guide my feet,
In ways of righteousness!
Make ev'ry path of duty straight,
And plain before my face.