  Sinking now in floods of light, The sun resigns the world to night; When a lingering glance he turns, The glowing west with glory burns, And the blushing heavens awhile Long retain his parting smile. Ere gray evening's sullen eye, Bids those tints of beauty die; Ere her tears have washed away The footsteps of departing day, Nature from her verdant bowers Her last long strain of rapture pours; She sings a drowsy world to rest, And tells to man, in thrilling strains, That the Lord Jehovah reigns! Lingering twilight dies away, Night resumes her ancient sway, Round her sable tresses twining Countless hosts of stars are shining; Weaving round the brow of night A coronet of living light: O'er the couch of nature bending, Their beauteous glances downward sending, A silent watch of glory keeping, Guard the earth whilst life is sleeping. Strains unheard by mortal ears, Echo through the starry spheres; Other worlds awake to sing, Glory to the eternal King! Echo far, Jehovah reigns! Creation sleeps—but many a sound Of melody is floating round— Where the moon-lit sea is flinging Its snowy foam and upward springing To meet the shore advancing nigh, Pours, in many a broken sigh, A mournful dirge o'er those who rest Forgotten in its stormy breast. Restless ocean, onward rave; He who trod the boisterous wave, Shall to life those forms restore, Thy tides have rolled for ages o'er; Those sleepers from thy depths shall spring To meet in air their mighty King, Whilst shrinking seas repeat their strains, Lord of all, Jehovah, reigns! This is night;—her mantle gray She flings across the brow of day To hide from mortal ken awhile The splendour of his kingly smile. But what magic beauties lie In her dark and shadowy eye, When the moon with glory crowned Checkers o'er the distant ground; Bathing now in floods of light, Now retreating from the sight, As the heavy vapoury cloud Flings athwart its sable shroud; Onward as her course is steering, Now through broken cliffs appearing, She shows the brightness of her form And laughs exulting at the storm; Whilst misty hills and moon-lit plains Echo far, Jehovah reigns! Night,—thy end is hastening fast, Eternal day will dawn at last; The Sun of righteousness shall rise, Triumphant through his native skies; And men redeemed from dust shall spring To hail the advent of their King; Till heaven's wide arch repeats their strains, Christ, our own Immanuel, reigns! THE END. BUNGAY: PRINTED BY J. R. AND C. CHILDS. Transcriber's NotesSpelling, hyphenation, punctuation, and indentation inconsistencies have been retained from the original book. Minor changes were made to the Table of Contents to match the poem titles. The following typos have been corrected: Page 19: An changed to And: |
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