Yet angels, in their loftiest song, Fail in their flight, and do Thee wrong; Tells of a Glory none can trace! And now, my mid-day homage paid, Nigh to defend, assist, and bless, Peace, through the grace of Christ our Lord; Rest, in the Father's love restored; Joy, by the Spirit's union given ; The peace, the rest, the joy of Heaven! James Ford. 1856 CCLIV Evening THE day, O Lord, is spent ; Abide with us, and rest; Our hearts' desires are fully bent We have not reached that land, Where holy angels round Thee stand, Our sun is sinking now; O Sun of Righteousness, do Thou Shine on us evermore ! John Mason Neale. 1854 B CCLV Evening EHOLD the sun, that seemed but now Beginneth to decline below The globe whereon we tread ; Thus time, unheeded, steals away Whereon we set our heart; And when the night of death draws nigh, Thus will they all depart. Lord! though the sun forsake our sight, And in the nights of our distress Vouchsafe those rays divine, Which from the Sun of Righteousness Forever brightly shine! George Wither. 1641 CCLVI Evening ACCEPT, my God, my evening song, Like incense let it fragrant rise; Stir up my heart, and tune my tongue, Thou hast my kind protector been My guide to choose me out my way. Still pouring blessings from on high; Thine hand hath dealt me out my food, For every want a kind supply. Unceasing, Lord, Thy bounty flowed; Each moment brought me in fresh aid; But what returns of love to God Have I for all His kindness made? What have I done for Him that died To save my soul from endless woe? How much have I His patience tried From whom all my enjoyments flow! Fast as my flying minutes pass, My faults augment the former sum! Forgive the past, and by Thy grace Prevent the like for time to come! Dear Saviour, to Thy cross I'll fly, Then, sprinkled with atoning blood, And sleep as on my Saviour's breast. 1709 By Simon Browne. 1720 A CCLVII Evening LL praise to Thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, Beneath Thine own Almighty wings! Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son, Teach me to live, that I may dread O may my soul on Thee repose; When in the night I sleepless lie, Dull sleep, of sense me to deprive ! But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns, The faster sleep the senses binds, O when shall I, in endless day, O may my Guardian, while I sleep, Stop all the avenues of ill: May he celestial joy rehearse, And thought to thought with me converse; Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, 1700 |