1 The day of praise is done;
The evening shadows fall;
Yet pass not from us with the sun,
True light that light’nest all.
Around Thy throne on high,
Where night can never be,
The white-rob’d harpers of the sky
Bring ceaseless songs to Thee.
2 Too faint our anthems here;
Too soon of praise we tire;
But, oh! the strains how full and clear
Of that eternal choir.
Yet, Lord, to Thy dear will
If Thou attune the heart,
We in Thine angels’ music still
May bear a lower part.
3 ‘Tis Thine each soul to calm,
Each wayward thought reclaim,
And make our daily life a psalm
Of glory to Thy name.
Shine Thou within us, then,
A day that knows no end,
Till songs of angels and of men
In perfect praise shall blend.
My Starred Hymns
My FlexScores
My Hymnals
My Purchased Files
MIDI
