‘Tis The Blessed Hour Of Prayer, When
Our Hearts Lowly Bend,
And We Gather To Jesus, Our Saviour And Friend ;
If We Come To Him In Faith, His Protection To Share,
What A Balm For The Weary !
Oh, How Sweet To Be There !

Blessed Hour Of Prayer !
Blessed Hour Of Prayer !
What A Balm For The Weary I
Oh, How Sweet To Be There !

‘Tis The Blessed Hour Of Prayer, When
The Saviour Draws Near,
With Tender Compassion His People To Hear;
When He Tells Us We May Cast At His Feet Every Care,
What A Balm For The Weary !
Oh, How Sweet To Be There !

‘Tis The Blessed Hour Of Prayer, When
The Tempted And Tried,
To The Saviour Who Loves Them Their
Sorrows Confide
With A Sympathising Heart He Re-
Moves Every Care ;
What A Balm For The Weary !
Oh, How Sweet To Be There !

At The Blessed Hour Of Prayer,
If We Firmly Believe
That The Blessing We Ask For We’ll Surely Receive,
In The Fulness Of Delight We Shall Lose Every Care ;
What A Balm For The Weary !
Oh, How Sweet To Be There !