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The Shadow of His Wings

Gerhard Ter Steegen

Ps. iv. 8

The evening comes, the sun is sunk and gone,

And all things lie in stillness and in rest;

And thou, my soul, for thee one rest alone

Remaineth ever, on the Father's breast.

The wanderer rests at last each weary limb;

Birds to their nests return from heath and hill;

The sheep are gathered from the pastures dim—

In Thee, my God, my restless heart is still.

Lord, gather from the regions dim and far

Desires and thoughts that wandered far from Thee;

To home and rest lead on, O guiding Star,

No other home or nest but God for me.

The daily toil of this worn body done,

The spirit for untiring work is strong;

Still hours of worship and of love begun,

Of blessed vision and eternal song.

In darkness and in silence still and sweet,

With blessed awe my spirit feels Thee near;

Within the Holiest, worships at Thy feet:

Speak Thou, and silence all my soul to hear.

To Thee my heart as incense shall arise;

Consumed upon Thine altar all my will;

Love, praise, and peace, an evening sacrifice,

And in the Lord I rest, and I am still.

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