A Sabbath Prayer

Waking up in a post-Easter morning is waking up in a world where “It is finished.” The “It” being the work of overcoming all those adversaries of our souls (Psalm 143:12). A work completed once and for all that marks the end of all that takes life actually being our end. A work that allows us to rest in the words that come after the completed work “Peace be with you” (Jn. 20:19,21,26). Hallelujah, Amen!

So, this morning, and for the next several mornings at least, let us pray together a prayer to rest in God’s work. Will you join me in a Sabbath Prayer adapted from Common Prayer: a liturgy for ordinary radicals?

Lord of Creation,

create in us a new rhythm of life

composed of hours that sustain rather than stress,

of days that deliver rather than destroy,

of time that tickles rather than tackles.

Lord of Liberation,

by the rhythm of your truth, set us free

from the bondage and baggage that break us,

from the Pharahos and fellows who fail us,

from the plans and pursuits that prey upon us.

Lord of Resurrection,

may we be raised into the rhythm of your new life,

dead to deceitful calendars,

dead to fleeting friend requests,

dead to the empty peace of accomplishments.

To our packed-full planners, we bid, ‘Peace!’

To our over-caffeinated consciences, we say, ‘Cease!’

To our suffocating selves, Lord, great release.

The righteous flourish…planted in the house of the LORD

By your ever-restful grace,

allow us to enter your Sabbath rest

as your Sabbath rest enters into us.

In the name of our Creator, our Liberator,

our Resurrection and Life, we pray.

Hallelujah, Amen

A Springtime Prayer

As we noted some forty or so days ago, the Latin word lent means “length” and is a term used to denote the arrival of the Spring season. A season in which the world is filled with newness, from buds to berries, blossoms to babies, the greening of grass to the lengthening of sunlight’s gaze on each days life; in Spring, the whole world seems reborn!

It’s fitting, then, that as we approach the sure-scheduled destination of our Lenten journey, we take a moment to reflect on the fact that Easter marks the beginning of our “Christian calendar.” Each Easter, we remember the rebirth of life with God through Jesus, and that post-Easter morning, we live in a world bursting with newness. That means each morning waking in the place the apostle Paul dubbed “the new country of grace” (Rom. 6:2).

Though today marks a day of darkness, what makes it “Good Friday” is the possibility of all the life after death that it brings and continues to bring anew into our world each and every day. So, let’s join together in a Springtime Prayer.

Wonderful Savior, please help us to use this newly revived springtime season to revive a newness in our hearts, a freshness of your Spirit in our homes and in our lives. Help us to respond to life with mercy, meekness, consideration, and love, as Jesus did.

As we live day by day, remind us of the beauty of spring, and what new beginnings mean within us and in the lives of those around us. Place those in our path who need help to see and experience the springing of your life in them. Present us with situations where we can support one another and teach us to pray with prophetic, transformative empathy on behalf of friends, family, and enemies. And give us the wisdom and the hope to live with courage coupled with compassion.

Because Jesus lives, and we live with him. Amen.

With The Cross In View

In preparation for our Lenten journey, we learned that prayer is a response, always. While we often think of praying as our reaching out to God, in truth, we can cry out to God, complain to God, and commune with God only because He has spoken first, because He has acted first.

That’s the way our scriptures tell the story anyway. God speaks, breathing us into life with Him, and even when we’d trade that life for something less, He continues to act in our favor, making a way for us to commune with Him.

It is because prayer is a response to God’s Word and work, that we can again, approaching Lent’s ending, pray with the tax collector (Luke 18:9-14) as we consider what God has done to ensure we can respond to Him. So, as you pray the short and simple words alongside your sisters and brothers in Jesus today, remember, as we learned, from where you pray them…at the atoning sacrifice, the cross of Christ where His life was given up for us so that it might be given to us.

“God, make atonement for me, a sinner!” (Luke 18:13)

Strengthened In His Grip

Last week we entered “the” Lenten prayer of the Orthodox Church, reflecting on the ‘negative’ side of repentance. Praying specifically for a weakened grip upon those characteristics that keep us from the life God has (re) created for us in Jesus.

Here at the edge of the homestretch of our pilgrimage, we will use this short petition to help us keep our aim in focus once more. But today, we’ll focus on the positive, on those characteristics that mark new life. Pray this prayer four times. Focus on one of the emboldened words each time you pray. Let yourself long deeply for the life God has freed you form death to live, and the character to experience it in full. To help, I’ve provided a brief descriptor of the ’positive’ words below. Read them over, see in them what you desire to hold to, to be a part of your life in the light, and then let the Spirit strengthen His grip on our lives.

chastity | the word is better translated for our modern times as ‘whole-mindedness.’ If the spirit of sloth has distorted our vision and energy to see life as it truly is in God, then whole-mindedness is the ability to see Him and life in him clearly.

humility | “the victory of truth in us, the elimination of all lies in which we usually live…accepting things as they are…God’s majesty and goodness and love in everything”

patience | the opposite of evaluating everything in terms of “me”; my needs, my ideas, my desires, my judgments; because we are open to God and able to see our life in His life and Kingdom.

love | “the gift which is the goal of all spiritual preparation and practice”

O Lord and Master of my life!

Take from me the spirit of sloth,

faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk.

But give rather the spirit of chastity,

humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.

Yea, O Lord and King!

Grant me to see my own errors

and not to judge my sisters and brothers;

For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages.

Amen.

Focusing on the Negative...And Letting It Go

Last week we entered “the” Lenten prayer of the Orthodox Church. This little prayer which plays such a prominent role in the Eastern Church’s Lenten habits, spells out rather succinctly, in a unique way, “all the negative and positive elements of repentance and constitutes…a ‘check list’ for our individual Lenten effort.”

Here, just a turn or two before the home stretch of our pilgrimage, we will use this short petition to help us keep our aim in focus. This week, we’ll focus on the negative, on giving up. Pray this prayer four times. Focus on one of the emboldened words each time you pray. Let yourself be honest with God, acknowledging what you need to let go of in this season. To help, I’ve provided a brief descriptor of the “negative” words below. Read them over, see the ways you are holding on to them, and then let the Spirit lead you to give up your grip.

sloth | the laziness and passivity that cultivates an apathy towards the “change(s)” of a new life being worth the effort

faint-heartedness | the result of sloth which is the loss of hope and courage that anything good and positive can be experienced

lust of power | what feels our hearts when the aim of new life—life in God—is lost, an attitude toward life that evaluates everything in terms of “me”; my needs, my ideas, my desires, my judgments

ideal talk | words—written, spoken, heard, or seen—which enforce sloth, faint-heartedness, and the lust of power; words that are not Truth, which make life into the absence of Truth (i.e., “hell”).

O Lord and Master of my life!

Take from me the spirit of sloth,

faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk.

But give rather the spirit of chastity,

humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.

Yea, O Lord and King!

Grant me to see my own errors

and not to judge my sisters and brothers;

For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages.

Amen.

"The" Lenten Prayer

In the Orthodox Church, there is a simple prayer that occupies significant importance within their weekly liturgy. Every Monday through Friday during the weeks of Lent, this short prayer is prayed twice daily. After the first reading, the worshiping participants bow prostrate, falling on their knees and faces, at each petition for God to “take” and “give.” Continuing the physicality of the prayer, the church family bows twelve times in a humble act of hope, saying, “O God, cleanse me a sinner.” And then the prayer is prayed for the second time and all fall again in silence.

While the motion and repetition might feel strange and a bit perplexing to most of us, the reason the Orthodox tradition places this little prayer so prominently in their Lenten habits is that it spells out rather succinctly, in a unique way, “all the negative and positive elements of repentance and constitutes…a ‘checklist’ for our individual Lenten effort.” After all, the aim of the season of Lent is for the presence of Christ to reveal both where we are stumbling and what more He longs for us.

So for the next several weeks, we’ll continue incorporating this prayer into our Lenten traditions. Today, and throughout this week, let this prayer conclude your daily time with our Father. Whatever else you are doing, listening to, reading, or talking with God about; let the repetition of this prayer keep our aim in focus.

Pray with me,

O Lord and Master of my life!

Take from me the spirit of sloth,

faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk.

But give rather the spirit of chastity,

humility, patience, and love to Thy servant.

Yea, O Lord and King!

Grant me to see my own errors

and not to judge my sisters and brothers;

For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages.

Amen.

Next Foot Forward

One of the most difficult parts of a journey is just putting the next foot forward. Lacking momentum, generally content and comfortable where we find ourselves, the prospects of a journey may be alluring, but the energy needed to begin has a host of hindrances. This is especially true for a journey like the one we are on through the Lenten season—a pilgrimage with Jesus through the bright sadness.

While we know what awaits us on the other side, it still takes courage and faith to confess what keeps us from life anew today. So this week, let’s put our next foot forward together, knowing that what we are confessing is being confessed by our sisters and brothers too. And that together, we make our confession from the sure orientation, “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.” (Ps. 32:1)

As we did on Ash Wednesday, we’ll pray a portion of the “Litany of Penitence,” but this time, as we pray get specific. Let yourself dwell long enough in the “general” confession (emboldened) until there are specifics for you to share with our gracious Father. Then, pray the remainder of the prayer as one who is already “Blessed…whom the LORD counts no iniquity” because of Jesus.

Most holy and merciful Father:
We confess to you and with one another,
that we have sinned.

We have not loved you with our whole heart, nor mind, nor strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven. Have mercy on us, gracious Father.

We turn to you, Father, acknowledging our divided, wounded, and self-absorbed hearts.

Restore us, good Father,
Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great.

Bring to maturity the fruit of your salvation,
That we may show forth your glory in the world.

By the cross and passion of your Son our King and Friend,
Bring us with all your saints into the complete joy of Jesus’ resurrection.

Amen.

Praying Like Psalmists

The psalms are a “school of prayer” that God’s children have attended for millennia. These poetic prayers do more than give us words to use in our prayers, they invite us to find our voice within them. The language of the Psalms is not merely descriptive; it is evocative. It is language meant to evoke, to bring to mind an image, a memory, a feeling, that then leads us to prayer.

This evocative nature is especially true for our seven Psalms of Lent, which have been our guide through the Lenten Season for the last two years.

The words of these psalms particularly, draw us into an image or memory or feeling of pain or surprise for ourselves and/or those around us. And in doing so, invite us to find God in these needy places, much like the “two sons” found their father in their time of need.

So today, take a moment to pray Psalm 6, written out for us below.

Before starting, ask the Spirit to help you see who and for what you are praying along the plot line of faith. Then, read each paragraph and let whatever image, memory, or feeling that comes to mind (whether for you or another) lead you to express the psalmist’s words in your own words. Then do the same for the next paragraph and the next until you’ve concluded the psalm.

WRESTLING WITH GOD

Please, God, no more yelling, no more trips to the woodshed. Treat me nice for a change; I’m so starved for affection. Can’t you see I’m black-and-blue, beat up badly in bones and soul? God, how long will it take for you to let up?

WRESTLING WITH LIFE

Break in, God, and break up this fight; if you love me at all, get me out of here. I’m no good to you dead, am I? I can’t sing in your choir if I’m buried in some tomb!

DONE WRESTLING

I’m tired of all this—so tired. My bed has been floating forty days and nights On the flood of my tears. My mattress is soaked, soggy with tears. The sockets of my eyes are black holes; nearly blind, I squint and grope.

SURPRISED BY HOPE

Get out of here, you Devil’s crew: at last God has heard my sobs. My requests have all been granted, my prayers are answered. Cowards, my enemies disappear. Disgraced, they turn tail and run.

With His Work In Mind

Prayer is a response, always. While we often think of praying as our reaching out to God, in truth, we can cry out to God, complain to God, and commune with God only because He has spoken first, because He has acted first. That’s the way our scriptures tell the story anyway. God speaking, breathing us into life with Him, and, even when we’d trade that life for something less, continuing to act in our favor, make a way for us to communion with Him still.

It is because prayer is a response to God’s Word and work, that we can pray with the tax collector (Luke 18:9-14) as we consider what God has done to ensure we can respond to Him. So, as you pray the short and simple words alongside your sisters and brothers in Jesus today, remember, as we learned Sunday, from where you pray them…at the atoning sacrifice, which is the cross of Christ.

“God, make atonement for me, a sinner!” (Luke 18:13)

Galvanize Our Days

This week we conclude our exercise in particularizing Jesus’ instruction to pray for our Father’s kingdom to come and will to be done in our time and place as it is in heaven.

Adapting Ernest Campbell’s “A City-Dweller’s Prayer,” we’ll focus our attention on the final stanza (embolden below).

When you get to this part of the prayer, slow down. Let the words sink into your heart, and let the Spirit lead you to express the specifics on which they light: the maze of opportunities, of could be’s and what if’s which suffocate hope, and the heart of Jesus which grants us energy and clarity to live the Way as people new. Confess and express these, for yourself and as a part of our social collective, in the presence of the One for whom nothing is hidden. Then conclude with a shared “Amen”.

Come back to these words and insights throughout the week ahead, allowing the heart and life of Jesus to galvanize our way forward together.

Pray with your faith family…

Father, our God of every time and place,

prevail among us too;

within the city that we live

among the people whose streets we share

and whose souls we learn to love,

your promise to renew.

Our people move with downcast eyes,

tight, sullen, and afraid;

Surprise us with your joy divine,

for we would be remade.

O Father whose will we can resist,

but cannot overcome,

Forgive our harsh and strident ways,

the harm that we have done.

Like Babel’s builders long ago

we raise our lofty towers,

And like them, too, our words divide,

and pride lays waste our powers.

Behind the masks that we maintain

to shut our sadness in,

There lurks the hope, however dim,

to live once more as your design.

Let wrong embolden us to fight,

and need excite our care;

If not us, who? If not now, when?

If not here, Father, then where?

Our forebears stayed their minds on you

in village, farm, and plain;

Help us, their crowded, harried kin,

no less your peace to claim.

Give us to know that you do love

each soul that you have made;

That size does not diminish grace,

nor concrete hide your gaze.

Grant us, Father, those who labor here

within this throbbing maze,

A forward-looking, saving hope

to galvanize our days.

Let Jesus, who loved Jerusalem,

and wept its sin to mourn,

Make just our laws and pure our hearts;

so shall we be reborn!

In, Through, and To Jesus we pray, Amen.

To Live Once More

We’ll continue to make particular Jesus’ instruction to pray for our Father’s kingdom to come and will to be done in our time and place as it is in heaven.

Adapting Ernest Campbell’s “A City-Dweller’s Prayer,” we’ll focus our attention this week on the third stanza (embolden below).

When you get to this part of the prayer, slow down. Let the words sink into your heart, and let the Spirit lead you to express the specifics on which they light: the masks we and neighbors wear as protection, the longings, and pursuits to be who we are truly created to be (and all the false selves sold and bought in our society), the timidity that keeps us from “issues” and the courage to know our place in salvation's story here and now. Confess and express these for yourself and as a part of our social collective in the presence of the One for whom nothing is hidden. Then finish the prayer.

Come back to these words and insights throughout the week ahead, seeing through what divides to what and who unites, and trusting that He is working in and through you for those around you even now.

Pray with your faith family…

Father, our God of every time and place,

prevail among us too;

within the city that we live

among the people whose streets we share

and whose souls we learn to love,

your promise to renew.

Our people move with downcast eyes,

tight, sullen, and afraid;

Surprise us with your joy divine,

for we would be remade.

O Father whose will we can resist,

but cannot overcome,

Forgive our harsh and strident ways,

the harm that we have done.

Like Babel’s builders long ago

we raise our lofty towers,

And like them, too, our words divide,

and pride lays waste our powers.

Behind the masks that we maintain

to shut our sadness in,

There lurks the hope, however dim,

to live once more as your design.

Let wrong embolden us to fight,

and need excite our care;

If not us, who? If not now, when?

If not here, Father, then where?

Our forebears stayed their minds on you

in village, farm, and plain;

Help us, their crowded, harried kin,

no less your peace to claim.

Give us to know that you do love

each soul that you have made;

That size does not diminish grace,

nor concrete hide your gaze.

Grant us, Father, those who labor here

within this throbbing maze,

A forward-looking, saving hope

to galvanize our days.

Let Jesus, who loved Jerusalem,

and wept its sin to mourn,

Make just our laws and pure our hearts;

so shall we be reborn!

We Can Resist...But Cannot Overcome

Last week we began praying a prayer as a particularized expression of the way Jesus taught us to pray:

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

We’ll continue the adaptation of Ernest Campbell’s “A City-Dweller’s Prayer” this week, focusing our attention on the second stanza (embolden below).

When you get to this part of the prayer, slow down. Let the words sink into your heart, and let the Spirit lead you to express the specifics on which they light: your and our ways of resisting, which are harsh, divisive, and prideful. Confess them, for yourself and as a part of our social collective, and then finish the prayer.

Come back to these words and insights throughout the week ahead, confessing, repenting, and receiving the grace of the One through whom you are reborn, whose will cannot be overcome.

Pray with your faith family…

Father, our God of every time and place,

prevail among us too;

within the city that we live

among the people whose streets we share

and whose souls we learn to love,

your promise to renew.

Our people move with downcast eyes,

tight, sullen, and afraid;

Surprise us with your joy divine,

for we would be remade.

O Father whose will we can resist,

but cannot overcome,

Forgive our harsh and strident ways,

the harm that we have done.

Like Babel’s builders long ago

we raise our lofty towers,

And like them, too, our words divide,

and pride lays waste our powers.

Behind the masks that we maintain

to shut our sadness in,

There lurks the hope, however dim,

to live once more as your design.

Let wrong embolden us to fight,

and need excite our care;

If not us, who? If not now, when?

If not here, Father, then where?

Our forebears stayed their minds on you

in village, farm, and plain;

Help us, their crowded, harried kin,

no less your peace to claim.

Give us to know that you do love

each soul that you have made;

That size does not diminish grace,

nor concrete hide your gaze.

Grant us, Father, those who labor here

within this throbbing maze,

A forward-looking, saving hope

to galvanize our days.

Let Jesus, who loved Jerusalem,

and wept its sin to mourn,

Make just our laws and pure our hearts;

so shall we be reborn!

God of Every Time and Place

When asked by his apprentices how to pray, Jesus gave them a rather straightforward model to get them started. “The Lord’s Prayer,” as we call it, begins with the declarative invocation, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” All at once, Jesus proclaims the majestic truth of intimacy and breadth of God‘s rule and humbly summons that authority over the details of daily life.

This month, as a part of our new year’s traditions, we are going to pray a prayer together that is learned from Jesus’ prayer. A prayer for our Father’s kingdom to come and his will to be done in our time and place in His-story.

In each of the following weeks, we’ll draw out a particular part of this prayer to give us focus. This week, though, let’s refamiliarize ourselves with the prayer, letting the Spirit lead us to invite the “God of every time and place” to be the Father whose care and wisdom take active shape in us, through us, and for our neighbors.

Let us pray together an adaption of Ernest Campbell’s “A City-Dweller’s Prayer.”

Father, our God of every time and place,

prevail among us too;

within the city that we live

among the people whose streets we share

and whose souls we learn to love,

your promise to renew.

Our people move with downcast eyes,

tight, sullen, and afraid;

Surprise us with your joy divine,

for we would be remade.

O Father whose will we can resist,

but cannot overcome,

Forgive our harsh and strident ways,

the harm that we have done.

Like Babel’s builders long ago

we raise our lofty towers,

And like them, too, our words divide,

and pride lays waste our powers.

Behind the masks that we maintain

to shut our sadness in,

There lurks the hope, however dim,

to live once more as your design.

Let wrong embolden us to fight,

and need excite our care;

If not us, who? If not now, when?

If not here, Father, then where?

Our forebears stayed their minds on you

in village, farm, and plain;

Help us, their crowded, harried kin,

no less your peace to claim.

Give us to know that you do love

each soul that you have made;

That size does not diminish grace,

nor concrete hide your gaze.

Grant us, Father, those who labor here

within this throbbing maze,

A forward-looking, saving hope

to galvanize our days.

Let Jesus, who loved Jerusalem,

and wept its sin to mourn,

Make just our laws and pure our hearts;

so shall we be reborn!

On The Twelfth Day of Christmas...

Today, on this last day of the Christmas Season, as we once more consider the multiplying abundance of what we’ve received, may we be the continued multiplying of the season’s Spirit and live perfectly into our created image:

The Divine Image | William Blake

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love

All pray in their distress;

And to these virtues of delight

Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love

Is God, our father dear,

And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love

Is Man, his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,

Pity a human face,

And Love, the human form divine,

And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,

That prays in his distress,

Prays to the human form divine,

Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form,

In heathen, Turk, or Jew;

Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell

There God is dwelling too.

On The Eleventh Day of Christmas...

Refugee | Malcolm Guite

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,

Or cosy in a crib beside the font,

But he is with a million displaced people

On the long road of weariness and want.

For even as we sing our final carol

His family is up and on the road,

Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,

Glancing behind and shouldering the load.

Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower,

Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,

The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,

And death squads spread their curse across the world.

But every Herod dies, and comes alone

To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.

On The Tenth Day of Christmas...

On The Edge | Malcolm Guite

Christmas sets the centre on the edge;

The edge of town, out-buildings of an inn,

The fringe of empire, far from privilege

And power, on the edge and outer spin

Of turning worlds, a margin of small stars

That edge a galaxy itself light years

From some unguessed-at cosmic origin.

Christmas sets the centre at the edge.

And from this day our world is re-aligned;

A tiny seed unfolding in the womb

Becomes the source from which we all unfold

And flower into being. We are healed,

The End begins, the tomb becomes a womb,

For now in him all things are re-aligned.

On The Ninth Day of Christmas...

Mary | Malcolm Guite

You bore for me the One who came to bless

And bear for all, to make the broken whole.

You heard his call, and in your open ‘yes’

You spoke aloud for every living soul.

Oh gracious Lady, child of your child,

Whose mother-love still calls the child in me,

Call me again, for I am lost and wild

Waves surround me now. On this dark sea

Shine as a star and call me to the shore.

Open a door that all my sins would close

And hold me in your garden. Let me share

The prayer that fold the petals of the Rose.

Enfold me too in love’s last mystery,

And bring me to the One you bore for me.

On The Eighth Day of Christmas...

O Emmanuel | Malcolm Guite

You’ve come, You’ve come, to be our God-with-us,

O long-sought with-ness for a world without,

O secret seed, O hidden spring of light.

You’ve Come to us Wisdom, you’ve come unspoken Name,

O quickened little wick so tightly curled,

You’re folded with us into time and place,

You’ve unfolded for us the mystery of grace

And made a womb of all this wounded world.

O heart of heaven beating in the earth,

O tiny hope within our hopelessness,

You’ve come, born to bear us to our birth,

To touch a dying world with new-made hands

And made these rags of tie our swaddling bands.

On The Seventh Day of Christmas...

O Rex Gentium | Malcolm Guite

O King of our desire whom we despise,

King of the nations never on the throne,

Unfounded foundation, cast-off cornerstone,

Rejected joiner, making many one:

You have no form or beauty for our eyes,

A King who comes to give away his crown,

A King within our rags of flesh and bone.

We pierce the flesh that pierces our disguise,

For we ourselves are found in you alone.

You’ve Come to us now and found in us your throne,

O King within the child within the clay,

O hidden King who shapes us in the play

Of all creation. Shape us for the day

Your coming Kingdom comes into its own.

On The Sixth Day of Christmas...

O Oriens | Malcolm Guite

First light and then first lines along the east

To touch and brush a sheen on light on water,

As though behind the sky itself they traced

The shift and shimmer of another river

Flowing unbidden from its hidden source;

The Day-Spring, the eternal Prima Vera.

Are bathing in it now, away upstream…

So every trace of light begins a grace

In me, a beckoning. The smallest gleam

Is somehow a beginning and a calling:

‘Sleeper awake, the darkness was a dream

For you will see the Dayspring at your waking,

Beyond your long last line the dawn is breaking.’