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THE SHADOW OF HIS WINGS

Ps. iv. 8.

          The evening comes, the sun is sunk and gone,
               And all things lie in stillness and in rest;
          And thou, my soul, for thee one rest alone
               Remaineth ever, on the Father's breast.
          
          The wanderer rests at last each weary limb;
               Birds to their nests return from heath and hill;
          The sheep are gathered from the pastures dim--
               In Thee, my God, my restless heart is still.
          
          Lord, gather from the regions dim and far
               Desires and thoughts that wandered far from Thee;
          To home and rest lead on, O guiding Star,
               No other home or nest but God for me.
          
          The daily toil of this worn body done,
               The spirit for untiring work is strong;
          Still hours of worhsip and of love begun,
               Of blessed vision and eternal song.
          
          In darkness and in silence still and sweet,
               With blessed awe my spirit feels Thee near;
          Within the Holiest, worships at They feet:
               Speak Thou, and silence all my soul to hear.
          
          To Thee my heart as incense shall arise;
               Consumed upon Thine altar all my will;
          Love, praise, and peace, an evening sacrifice,
               And in the Lord I rest, and I am still.

G. T. S.


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