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615

L. M.

Lord’s-day evening.

371

S. F. Smith.

Sweet is the fading light of eve;

And soft the sunbeams lingering there;

For these blest hours the world I leave,

Wafted on wings of praise and prayer.

2 The time, how lovely and how still!

Peace shines and smiles on all below:

The plain, the stream, the wood, the hill,

All fair with evening’s setting glow.

3 Season of rest! the tranquil soul

Feels the sweet calm, and melts to love,

And while these sacred moments roll,

Faith sees a smiling heaven above.

4 Nor will our days of toil be long;

Our pilgrimage will soon be trod,

And we shall join the ceaseless song,

The endless sabbath of our God.

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