1 Sun of my soul, my Saviour dear,
it is not night if you are near;
oh may no earth-born cloud arise
to hide you from your servant's eyes.

2 When the soft dews of kindly sleep
my wearied eyelids gently steep,
be my last thought: How sweet to rest
forever on my Saviour's breast.

3 Watch by the sick; enrich the poor
with blessings from your boundless store;
be every mourner's sleep tonight,
like infants' slumbers, pure and light.

4 Come near and bless us when we wake,
as through the world our way we take,
till in the ocean of your love
we lose ourselves in heaven above.