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CCXVIII

NIGHT

All praise to Him who dwells in bliss,

Who made both day and night;

Whose throne is darkness, in th' abyss

Of uncreated light!

Each thought and deed His piercing eyes

With strictest search survey;

The deepest shades no more disguise

Than the full blaze of day.

176

Whom Thou dost guard, O King of kings,

No evil shall molest:

Under the shadow of Thy wings

Shall they securely rest.

Thy Angels shall around their beds

Their constant stations keep;

Thy faith and truth shall shield their heads,

For Thou dost never sleep.

May we, with calm and sweet repose,

And heavenly thoughts refresh'd,

Our eyelids with the morn unclose,

And bless the Ever-bless'd!

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