Lord, in the morning Thou shalt hear My voice ascending high; To Thee will I direct my pray'r, To Thee lift up mine eye. Up to the hill where Christ is gone To plead for all His saints, Presenting at His Father's throne Our songs and our complaints. Thou art God before whose sight The wicked shall not stand; Sinners shall ne'er be Thy delight, Nor dwell at Thy right hand.