81
tr., John Brownlie
8.8.8.8
82
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I
The sun has reached his western goal,
And night winds hush the world to rest;
Be still, and worship God, my soul,
Who through the day thy life hath blest.
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II
To God thy Maker, thanks accord,
For life, and hope, and every good,
And all the comfort of the Word
Incarnate, for the spirit's food.
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III
Ah! night is dark when clouds of guilt
The shrinking soul with fears distress,—
Call on the Christ Whose blood was spilt,
And all thy guiltiness confess.
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IV
Then let me rest in calm repose,—
Secure in Him, my rest is sweet;
The fears of night no dread impose,
If I have worshipped at His feet.
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V
O Christ, Who art my Light, I pray,
Keep Thou my soul till morning shine;
Then, brighter than the orb of day,
Illume my path with light divine.
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