Sweet Hour Of Prayer

Sweet Hour Of Prayer

Going blind can be a frightful experience. As we get older and older, the uncertainty of what lies ahead can be pretty scary. Just imagine how difficult that would have been a century and a half ago when society was less capable of dealing with disabilities. Such a future was what William was facing.

William was a man of God who still preached on occasion. He also was able to carve some trinkets to make a little money to support himself. Blindness, however, had produced an interesting spiritual benefit. His prayer life had become much more meaningful and personal. In an age when most people saw prayer as a corporate and public discipline, William found prayer to be a sweet and refreshing personal time with God. That, and his poetry, were what he loved the most.

He had been working on a poem about this personal type of prayer when he recited a few lines to Thomas Salmon, a friend who often sold William’s trinkets in his store. His friend hurriedly copied those words, as William spoke them, and sent them off to a publisher, The New York Observer, with a note that commented, “...if you should think them worthy of preservation."

Well, they did. Williams Walfords’ poem was published on September 13, 1845. It wasn’t until 1861 that the music was added. The famous hymn writer, William Bradbury, found the poem and recognized its quality at once. The soulful tune he gave to it has made it one of the most beautiful songs in hymnals worldwide. It’s title is, “Sweet Hour Of Prayer.”

SWEET HOUR OF PRAYER

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer!

That calls me from a world of care,

And bids me at my Father’s throne

Make all my wants and wishes known.

In seasons of distress and grief,

My soul has often found relief,

And oft escaped the tempter’s snare,

By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer!

The joys I feel, the bliss I share,

Of those whose anxious spirits burn

With strong desires for thy return!

With such I hasten to the place

Where God my Savior shows His face,

And gladly take my station there,

And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!

May I thy consolation share,

Till, from Mount Pisgah’s lofty height, I view my home and take my flight.

This robe of flesh I’ll drop, and rise

To seize the everlasting prize,

And shout, while passing through the air,

”Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!”