John Brownlie (trans.) · 17 of 99

17: Lord, upon our night descending

Lord, upon our night descending, Bid the light with gladness shine; Let its rays, through darkness wending, Round our fears in beauty twine.

Thou art Light, and where Thou dwellest, Like a traveller, gloom departs; Come, who threatening clouds dispellest, And abide within our hearts.

Ah, the visions Thou impartest, With the morn, and with the noon; With what glory Thou attirest Eve, that falleth late or soon.

Flood our lives with varied beauty, Morn, and noon, and coming night; Light us in the path of duty, And at eve let there be light.