214
And not a star shall shine above,
The moon shall never beam her hour,
But still my soul shall bless thy love,
Or, rapt in wonder, own thy power.
The moon shall never beam her hour,
But still my soul shall bless thy love,
Or, rapt in wonder, own thy power.
And when, with sweet and soothing sleep,
My cares and sorrows find a rest,
Ere still oblivion o'er me creep,
Thy trust shall calm the wearied breast.
My cares and sorrows find a rest,
Ere still oblivion o'er me creep,
Thy trust shall calm the wearied breast.
The Spirit unto thee shall pour
The joy or grief of that brief day;
Review its path when all is o'er,
And humbled, yet confiding, pray.
The joy or grief of that brief day;
Review its path when all is o'er,
And humbled, yet confiding, pray.
That deep repose, that death-like scene,
Safe in thy care shall welcome be;
The shadowy thoughts on Thee shall lean,
The eyes' last beam be raised to Thee!
Safe in thy care shall welcome be;
The shadowy thoughts on Thee shall lean,
The eyes' last beam be raised to Thee!
And should a 'deeper sleep impend,'
A darker hour demand my faith,
With Thee, Creator, Guardian, Friend,
I'll enter on the shades of death!
A darker hour demand my faith,
With Thee, Creator, Guardian, Friend,
I'll enter on the shades of death!
