Pay heed, pay heed, to your own soul:
Opal, amethyst, and gold, As bright as is the sun’s warm glow,
Far brighter than the morning!
I thank the God who probes all hearts When stars sing in the morning. In this wilderness she roams,
A gemstone hewn from God’s throne,
To redeem us from wrath’s ﬂame
And light our way before morning.
Awake! Awake! For every night
Your soul ascends to a place on high
And there accounts for her deeds that day
To the Maker of night and of morning.
If He ﬁnds her fair and fetching,
Clothed in prayer and thanksgiving,
Like a bride dressed for her wedding,
It will be in the morning.
Thus restoring her to Him,
You’ll be her faithful guardian.
No one need die in his sin,
For after night comes morning.
Don’t let her be a homeless waif,
Once so innocent and chaste.
He who cannot keep her safe,
What light will he have in the morning?
May we see this very year God
In His graciousness appear
And say, our griefs replaced by cheer,
“You shall hear My voice in the morning.”