Night
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- The sun descending in the West,
- The evening star does shine;
- The birds are silent in their nest,
- And I must seek for mine.
- The moon, like a flower
- In heaven’s high bower,
- With silent delight,
- Sits and smiles on the night.
- Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
- Where flocks have took delight,
- Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
- The feet of angels bright;
- Unseen, they pour blessing,
- And joy without ceasing,
- On each bud and blossom,
- And each sleeping bosom.
- They look in every thoughtless nest
- Where birds are covered warm;
- They visit caves of every beast,
- To keep them all from harm:
- If they see any weeping
- That should have been sleeping,
- They pour sleep on their head,
- And sit down by their bed.
- When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
- They pitying stand and weep;
- Seeking to drive their thirst away,
- And keep them from the sheep.
- But, if they rush dreadful,
- The angels, most heedful,
- Receive each mild spirit,
- New worlds to inherit.
- And there the lion’s ruddy eyes
- Shall flow with tears of gold:
- And pitying the tender cries,
- And walking round the fold:
- Saying: ‘Wrath by His meekness,
- And, by His health, sickness,
- Is driven away
- From our immortal day.
- ‘And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
- I can lie down and sleep,
- Or think on Him who bore thy name,
- Graze after thee, and weep.
- For, washed in life’s river,
- My bright mane for ever
- Shall shine like the gold,
- As I guard o’er the fold.
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