 | Songs Old and New |  |
166
AT EVENTIDE IT SHALL BE LIGHT.
Forth to thy work from morn till night,
Through fog and din thy path would be;
While I at home upon the height
Would work, and rest, and wait for thee.
Through fog and din thy path would be;
While I at home upon the height
Would work, and rest, and wait for thee.
But now along the way of life
Through dust and din my path must be,
Whilst thou above all mists and strife
Waitest at Home, on high, for me.
Through dust and din my path must be,
Whilst thou above all mists and strife
Waitest at Home, on high, for me.
I will not call these “weary ways;”
No murmur ever left thy lips;
I will not sigh o'er “dreary days,”
Though darkened by thy light's eclipse.
No murmur ever left thy lips;
I will not sigh o'er “dreary days,”
Though darkened by thy light's eclipse.
A Presence wraps me everywhere,
The Presence in which thou art blest;
The Face, the Sun of worlds, is there,—
Yet bright to us the glistening vest.
The Presence in which thou art blest;
The Face, the Sun of worlds, is there,—
Yet bright to us the glistening vest.
167
The work is good, the way is right;—
But yet, I think, an hour shall be
At evening on the homelike height
Which will be morn to thee and me.
But yet, I think, an hour shall be
At evening on the homelike height
Which will be morn to thee and me.
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