'Tis the blessed hour of prayer when our hearts lowly bend

' 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! O 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! O 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 removes every care: What a balm for the weary! O 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 fullness of delight we shall lose every care: What a balm for the weary! O how sweet to be there.

Blessed hour of prayer, Blessed hour of prayer, What a balm for the weary! O how sweet to be there.