An Evening Thought. -- Ps. iv.
While many cry in nature's night
Ah! who will show the way to bliss?
Lord, lift on us thy saving light;
We seek no other guide than this.
Gladness Thy sacred presence brings,
More than the joyful reaper knows;
Or he who treads the grapes and sings
While with new wine his vat o'erflows.
In peace I lay me down to sleep;
Thine arm, O Lord! shall stay my head,
Thine Angel spread his tent, and keep
His midnight watch around my bed.