At The Dawn
S
Shlomo ibn Gabirol
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At the dawn I seek Thee,
Rock and refuge tried,
In due service speak Thee
Morn and eventide.
'Neath Thy greatness shrinking,
Stand I sore afraid,
All my secret thinking
Bare before Thee laid.
Little to Thy glory
Heart or tongue can do;
Small remains the story,
Add we spirit too.
Yet since man's praise ringing
May seem good to Thee,
I will praise Thee singing
While Thy breath's in me.
Translated by Israel Zangwill
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