1 The duteous day now closeth,
each flower and tree reposeth,
shade creeps o’er wild and wood:
let us, as night is falling,
on God our Maker calling,
give thanks to him, the giver good.

2 Now all the heavenly splendour
breaks forth in starlight tender
from myriad worlds unknown;
and man, the marvel seeing,
forgets his selfish being,
for joy of beauty not his own.

3 His care he drowneth yonder,
lost in the abyss of wonder;
to heaven his soul doth steal;
this life he disesteemeth,
the day it is that dreameth,
that doth from truth his vision seal.

4 Awhile his mortal blindness
may miss God’s loving-kindness,
and grope in faithless strife:
but when life’s day is over
shall death’s fair night discover
the fields of everlasting life.