Day is dying in the west,
Heav’n is touching earth with rest,
Wait and worship while the night
Sets her evening lamps alight
Through all the sky.
Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God of Hosts!
Heav’n and earth are full of Thee!
Heav’n and earth are praising Thee,
O Lord, most high!
Lord of life, beneath the dome
Of the universe, Thy home,
Gather us, who seek Thy face,
To the fold of Thy embrace,
For Thou art nigh.
While the deepening shadows fall,
Heart of love, enfolding all,
Through the glory and the grace
Of the stars that veil Thy face,
Our hearts ascend.
– Mary A. Lathbury (1877-1879)
–Anthony Evans Photography ( Cosmeston Lakes Country Park, Vale of Glamorgan, Wales )
Text & image source: Tom Woolley https://www.facebook.com/tom.woolley.12
WHEN the bright lamp is carried in,
The sunless hours again begin;
O’er all without, in field and lane,
The haunted night returns again.
Now we behold the embers flee
About the firelit hearth; and see
Our pictures painted as we pass,
Like pictures, on the window-glass.
Must we to bed indeed?
Let us arise and go like men,
And face with an undaunted tread
The long black passage up to bed.
Farewell, O brother, sister, sire!
O pleasant party round the fire!
The songs you sing, the tales you tell,
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well!
From “A Child’s Garden of Verses” by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Artist WENDY MOULD
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/Snowwolfswoodlandnook/