Night

The sun descending in the west,The evening star does shine,The birds are silent in their nest,And I must seek for mine,The moon like a flower,In heavens high bower;With silent delight,Sits and smiles on the night.

Farewell green fields and happy groves,Where flocks have took delight;Where lambs have nibbled, silent movesThe feet of angels bright;Unseen they pour blessing,And joy without ceasing,On each bud and blossom,And each sleeping bosom.

They look in every thoughtless nest,Where birds are covered warm;They visit caves of every beast,To keep them all from harm;If they see any weeping,That should have been sleeping,They pour sleep on their headAnd sit down by their bed.

When wolves and tygers howl for preyThey pitying stand and weep;Seeking to drive their thirst away,And keep them from the sheep.But if they rush dreadful;The angels most heedful,Receive each mild spirit,New worlds to inherit.

And there the lions ruddy eyes,Shall flow with tears of gold;And pitying the tender cries,And walking round the fold;Saying: wrath by his meeknessAnd by his health, sickness,Is driven away,From our immortal day.

And now beside thee bleating lamb,I can lie down and sleep;Or think on him who bore thy nameGraze after thee and weep.For wash'd in lifes river,My bright mane for ever,Shall shine like the goldAs I guard o'er the fold