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
worhsip 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 They 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.
G. T. S.
