Child’s Evening Hymn
NOW the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.
Now the darkness gathers,
Stars begin to peep,
Birds and beasts and flowers
Soon will be asleep.
Jesu, give the weary
Calm and sweet repose;
With thy tenderest blessing
May our eyelids close.
Grant to little children
Visions bright of thee;
Guard the sailors tossing
On the deep blue sea.
Comfort every sufferer
Watching late in pain;
Those who plan some evil
From their sin restrain.
Through the long night-watches
May thine angels spread
Their white wings above me,
Watching round my bed.
When the morning wakens,
Then may I arise
Pure and fresh and sinless
In thy holy eyes.
Glory to the Father,
Glory to the Son,
And to thee, bless’d Spirit,
Whilst all ages run. AMEN
poem by Sabine Baring-Gould

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Related quotes
Now The Day Is Over
Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.
Now the darkness gathers,
Stars begin to peep,
Birds, and beasts and flowers
Soon will be asleep.
Jesus, give the weary
Calm and sweet repose;
With Thy tenderest blessing
May mine eyelids close.
Grant to little children
Visions bright of Thee;
Guard the sailors tossing
On the deep, blue sea.
Comfort those who suffer,
Watching late in pain;
Those who plan some evil
From their sin restrain.
Through the long night watches
May Thine angels spread
Their white wings above me,
Watching round my bed.
When the morning wakens,
Then may I arise
Pure, and fresh, and sinless
In Thy holy eyes.
Glory to the Father,
Glory to the Son,
And to Thee, blest Spirit,
While all ages run.
poem by Sabine Baring-Gould

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Hymn after Receiving Holy Communion
I HAVE Thee now, O Jesu,
Enshrined within my soul,
In all Thy love and fulness,
With power to make me whole.
Though cold and so unworthy,
5
Though weak and stained with sin,
I opened to Thee, Jesu,
And Thou hast entered in.
I have Thee now, O Jesu!
And oh, the thrill divine
10
To feel that Thou art in me,
To know that Thou art mine!
I have Thee, too, O Jesu,
As pledge of future bliss;
But faith is lost in wonder
15
At rapture more than this.
I have Thee now, O Jesu!
Purge all my dross away,
Light up my inmost being
With Thy full flood of day;
20
Do Thou, O Lord, shine through me
In all my words and ways,
Till others catch Thy glory,
And join in endless praise.
I have Thee now, O Jesu!
25
Oh, never more depart!
Grant that no fresh offences
Shall drive Thee from my heart;
Till down the long dark valley,
The path which Thou hast trod,
30
There dawns in cloudless splendour
The vision of my God.
Amen.
poem by Frederick George Scott

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I Arise from Dreams of Thee
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Has led me -- who knows how? --
To thy chamber-window, sweet!
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream, --
The champak odors fall
Like sweet thoughts in a dream,
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must die on thine,
O, beloved as thou art!
O, lift me from the grass!
I die, I faint, I fall!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale,
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My Heart beats loud and fast
Oh! press it close to thine again,
Where it will break at last!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Morning’s Glory
Dawn breaks the stranglehold
of a sleepy dusky night.
The sun peers above the eastern horizon
as morning begins to break into full glory.
Flowers open their petals wide
to allow the warmth inside;
birds leave their roosts
to wander the sky.
The morning’s glory soars
on delicate golden wings
as the early birds begin to sing.
Morning’s glory looks down on all
awakening with sleepy eyes,
preparing them to go
through a brand new day
that starts with the morning’s glory
and the sun shining bright.
9 December 2009
poem by David Harris

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Christmas Eve
Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
The evening shades are falling,--
Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear
The voice of the Master calling?
Deep lies the snow upon the earth,
But all the sky is ringing
With joyous song, and all night long
The stars shall dance, with singing.
Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
And close thine eyes in dreaming,
And angels fair shall lead thee where
The singing stars are beaming.
A shepherd calls his little lambs,
And he longeth to caress them;
He bids them rest upon his breast,
That his tender love may bless them.
So, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
Whilst evening shades are falling,
And above the song of the heavenly throng
Thou shalt hear the Master calling.
poem by Eugene Field

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Joy in Heaven
FIRST SPIRIT
Sister spirit, listen!
Methinks I hear a song,
Resounding strangely, sadly,
These peaceful plains along.
SECOND SPIRIT
'Tis like those lays we sang in earthly days,
When we trod our pilgrimage of pain;
FIRST SPIRIT
And earthlike are those values
Which chant the solemn strain:
CHORUS OF MORTALS
Low in the dust before Thee,
Great King of Kings, we fall!
Least of the host which adore Thee,
Do not despise our call!
From the paths of right,
We have wander'd, we have wander'd,
We have all gone astray;
In thy holy sight,
We are guilty, we are guilty --
We have all gone astray;
Yet hear us! hear us! hear us,
And cast us not away.
CHORUS OF ANGELS
Children of Earth! your pray'r is heard in Heaven,
Where Mercy heeds the softest whisper'd moan:
Ransom'd, arise! your sins are all forgiven,
Your Father saith who sitteth on the Throne:
And it is his gracious bidding:
"Bring forth the robes!" --
his heart of love was yearning
To greet repentant sons far away.
Lost once, but found!
We welcome their returning!
There's joy in Heav'n today!
There's joy in Heav'n today!
FIRST SPIRIT
Sister spirit, yonder,
By that celestial gate,
What throngs of weary pilgrims,
In supplication wait.
SECOND SPIRIT
They know and yet how fondly those are met,
Who at last from wandering ways draw nigh --
FIRST SPIRIT
They know not yet how boundless
His love to whom they cry:
CHORUS OF MORTALS
No place claim we with the Holy,
Thronging thy blissfull halls;
Grant us a refuge lowly,
Graciously near these walls.
There on bended knees,
Tho' unworthy, most unworthy,
We will worship and pray;
Oh, hear us! hear us! hear us,
And cast us not away.
CHORUS OF ANGELS
Children of Earth! no more, in sadness bended,
You supplicate a distant Throne of Grace:
Ransom'd, arise! your days of prayer are ended --
You meet your waiting Father face to face:
For he sendeth heralds saying:
"Unfold the gates! -- with gladness come before us,
And to the royal seats to my guests convey."
Angels! begin the neverending chorus!
There's joy in Heav'n today!
There's joy in Heav'n today!
And I heard, and I heard
as it were the voice of a great multitude,
and the voice of many waters,
and the voice of mighty thunderings,
say ---- - ing;
FULL CHORUS
Glory to God! Glory to God!
Glory to God in the highest!
QUARTETTE
He gathers his wanderers home
We welcome the last arrived one!
Oh, bles-sed employ!
our infinite joy (our infinte joy)
Is begun!
FULL CHORUS
Now will we sing to Thee
(to Thee) (to Thee) now will we sing,
Our Father, our Redeemer and our King,
New songs (our sweetest songs)
of praise (our purest praise)
Our choicest, noblest, most triumphant lays,
For ev - (-er, ever) -er
more (For ever more)
For ev - (-er, ever) -er more.
Praise ye the Lord
For ev - (-er, ever) -er more.
poem by Henry Clay Work

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O God! Thou art my God alone;
O God! Thou art my God alone;
Early to Thee my soul shall cry;
A pilgrim in a land unknown,
A thirsty land whose springs are dry.
O that it were as it hath been,
When praying in the holy place,
Thy power and glory I have seen,
And marked the footsteps of thy grace.
Yet through this rough and thorny maze,
I follow hard on Thee, my God:
Thy hand unseen upholds my ways:
I safely tread where Thou hast trod.
Thee, in the watches of the night,
When I remember on my bed,
Thy presence makes the darkness light;
Thy guardian wings are round my head.
Better than life itself thy love,
Dearer than all beside to me;
For whom have I in heaven above,
Or what on earth, compared with Thee?
Praise with my heart, my mind, my voice,
For all thy mercy I will give:
My soul shall still in God rejoice,
My tongue shall bless Thee while I live.
poem by James Montgomery

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Father of light, and life, and love!
Father of light, and life, and love!
Thyself to us reveal;
As saints below, and saints above,
Thy sacred presence feel.
Not with the eye of mortal sense
By angels round the throne,
Or happy souls departed hence,
Art Thou in glory known.
No sun by day, no moon by night
For this our spirits need;
Who walk by faith, and not by sight,
They feel Thee nigh indeed.
Light in thy light the blind may see,
No more by sin estranged;
Light in the Lord, so let us be
Into thine image changed.
Since Thou Thyself dost still display
Unto the pure in heart,
O make us children of the day
To know Thee as Thou art.
For Thou art light and life and love;
And thy redeemed below
May see Thee as thy saints above,
And know Thee as they know.
poem by James Montgomery

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Sun of My Soul
Sun of my soul, Thou Savior dear,
It is not night if Thou be near;
O may no earthborn cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant’s eyes.
When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest
Forever on my Savior’s breast.
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
If some poor wandering child of Thine
Has spurned today the voice Divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch by the sick, enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store;
Be every mourner’s sleep tonight,
Like infants’ slumbers, pure and right.
Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take,
Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves in heaven above.
poem by John Keble

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The Indian Serenade
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me--who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream--
The champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart;
As I must on thine,
Oh, beloved as thou art!
O lift me from the grass!
die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;--
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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O Little Town Of Bethlehem
O little town of bethlehem,
How still we see the lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.
For christ is born of mary,
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the king,
And peace to men on earth.
How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still
The dear christ enters in.
Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed child,
Where misery cries out to thee,
Son of the mother mild;
Where charity stands watching
And faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And christmas comes once more.
O holy child of bethlehem!
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.
We hear the christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our lord emmanuel!
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy Innocents
Sleep, little Baby, sleep,
The holy Angels love thee,
And guard thy bed, and keep
A blessed watch above thee.
No spirit can come near
Nor evil beast to harm thee:
Sleep, Sweet, devoid of fear
Where nothing need alarm thee.
The Love which doth not sleep,
The eternal arms around thee:
The shepherd of the sheep
In perfect love has found thee.
Sleep through the holy night,
Christ-kept from snare and sorrow,
Until thou wake to light
And love and warmth to-morrow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Evening
'Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
You mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.
In darkness and in weariness
The traveller on his way must press,
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.
Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near:
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes!
When round Thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out Wisdom, Power and Love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove; -
Or by the light Thy words disclose
Watch Time's full river as it flows,
Scanning Thy gracious Providence,
Where not too deep for mortal sense:-
When with dear friends sweet talk I hold,
And all the flowers of life unfold;
Let not my heart within me burn,
Except in all I Thee discern.
When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live:
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
Thou Framer of the light and dark,
Steer through the tempest Thine own ark:
Amid the howling wintry sea
We are in port if we have Thee.
The Rulers of this Christian land,
'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand, -
Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright,
Let all do all as in Thy sight.
Oh! by Thine own sad burthen, borne
So meekly up the hill of scorn,
Teach Thou Thy Priests their daily cross
To bear as Thine, nor count it loss!
If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spurned to-day the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch by the sick: enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night,
Like infants' slumbers, pure and light.
Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take;
Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves, in Heaven above.
poem by John Keble

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Evening Song
WHEN all the weary flowers,
Worn out with sunlit hours,
Droop o'er the garden beds
Their little sleepy heads,
The dewy dusk on quiet wings comes stealing;
And, as the night descends,
The shadows troop like friends
To bring them healing.
So, weary of the light
Of life too full and bright,
We long for night to fall
To wrap us from it all;
Then death on dewy wings draws near and holds us,
And like a kind friend come
To children far from home,
With love enfolds us.
But when the night is done,
Fresh to the morning sun,
Their little faces yet
With night's sweet dewdrops wet,
The flowers awake to the new day's new graces;
And we, ah! shall we too
Turn to the daydawn new
Our tear-wet faces?
poem by Edith Nesbit

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Away In Manger
(trad)
Away in a manger, no cry for a bed
The little load jesus laid down his sweet head
The stars in the bright sky,look down where he lay
The little load jesus, asleep on the hay
The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes
But little load jesaus, no crying he makes
I love thee load jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my side until morning is nigh
Be near me, load jesus, I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me I pray
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care
And take us to heaven, to live with thee there
And takes us to heaven, to live with thee there
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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St. James's Day
Sit down and take thy fill of joy
At God's right hand, a bidden guest,
Drink of the cup that cannot cloy,
Eat of the bread that cannot waste.
O great Apostle! rightly now
Thou readest all thy Saviour meant,
What time His grave yet gentle brow
In sweet reproof on thee was bent.
"Seek ye to sit enthroned by me?
Alas! ye know not what ye ask,
The first in shame and agony,
The lowest in the meanest task -
This can ye be? and came ye drink
The cup that I in tears must steep,
Nor from the 'whelming waters shrink
That o'er Me roll so dark and deep?"
"We can--Thine are we, dearest Lord,
In glory and in agony,
To do and suffer all Thy word;
Only be Thou for ever nigh." -
"Then be it so--My cup receive,
And of My woes baptismal taste:
But for the crown, that angels weave
For those next Me in glory placed,
"I give it not by partial love;
But in My Father's book are writ
What names on earth shall lowliest prove,
That they in Heaven may highest sit."
Take up the lesson, O my heart;
Thou Lord of meekness, write it there,
Thine own meek self to me impart,
Thy lofty hope, thy lowly prayer.
If ever on the mount with Thee
I seem to soar in vision bright,
With thoughts of coming agony,
Stay Thou the too presumptuous flight:
Gently along the vale of tears
Lead me from Tabor's sunbright steep,
Let me not grudge a few short years
With thee t'ward Heaven to walk and weep:
Too happy, on my silent path,
If now and then allowed, with Thee
Watching some placid holy death,
Thy secret work of love to see;
But, oh! most happy, should Thy call,
Thy welcome call, at last be given -
"Come where thou long hast storeth thy all
Come see thy place prepared in Heaven."
poem by John Keble

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Cleburne
Another ray of light hath fled, another Southern brave
Hath fallen in his country's cause and found a laureled grave-
Hath fallen, but his deathless name shall live when stars shall set,
For, noble Cleburne, thou art one this world will ne'er forget.
'Tis true, thy warm heart beats no more, that on thy noble head
Azrael placed his icy hand, and thou art with the dead;
The glancing of thine eyes are dim; no more will they be bright
Until they ope in Paradise, with clearer, heavenlier light.
No battle news disturbs thy rest upon the sun-bright shore,
No clarion voice awakens thee on earth to wrestle more,
No tramping steed, no wary foe bids thee awake, arise,
For thou art in the angel world, beyond the starry skies.
Brave Cleburne, dream in thy low bed, with pulseless deadened heart;
Calm, calm and sweet, O warrior rest! thou well hast borne thy part,
And now a glory wreath for thee the angels singing twine,
A glory wreath, not of the earth, but made by hands divine.
A long farewell-we give thee up, with all thy bright reknown,
A chieftain here on earth is lost, in heaven an angel found.
Above thy grave a wail is heard-a nation mourns her dead;
A nobler for the South ne'er died, a braver never bled.
A last farewell-how can we speak the bitter word farewell!
The anguish of our bleeding hearts vain words may never tell.
Sleep on, sleep on, to God we give our chieftain in his might;
And weeping, feel he lives on high, where comes no sorrow's night.
poem by Anonymous Americas

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Millennium Prayer
Our Father who art in Heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy Kingdom come
thy will be done on earth as in heaven
Give us to thee our daily bread
And forgive our sins
As we forgive each one of those who sin against us
And lead us not to the time of trial
But deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom the power and the glory
Let all the people sing Amen
In every tribe and tongue
Let every hearts desire be joined
To see the kingdom come
Let every hope and every dream
Be born in love again
Let all the world sing with one voice
Let the people say amen
Amen Amen Amen
Amen Amen Amen (To fade)
song performed by by Cliff Richard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence is in Our Festal Halls
Silence is in our festal halls --
Sweet son of song! thy course is o'er;
In vain on thee sad Erin calls,
Her minstrel's voice responds no more; --
All silent as the Eolian shell
Sleeps at the close of some bright day,
When the sweet breeze, that waked its swell
At sunny morn, hath died away.
Yet, at our feasts, thy spirit long,
Awaked by music's spell, shall rise;
For, name so link'd with deathless song
Partakes its charm and never dies;
And even within the holy fane,
When music wafts the soul to heaven,
One thought to him, whose earliest strain
Was echoed there, shall long be given.
But where is now the cheerful day,
The social night, when by thy side,
He who now weaves this parting lay
His skilless voice with thine allied;
And sung those songs whose every tone,
When bard and minstrel long have past,
Shall still, in sweetness all their own,
Embalm'd by fame, undying last.
Yes, Erin, shine alone the fame --
Or, if thy bard have shared the crown,
From thee the borrow'd glory came,
And at thy feet is now laid down.
Enough, if Freedom still inspire,
His latest song, and still there be,
As evening closes round his lyre,
One ray upon its chords from thee.
poem by Thomas Moore

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To The New-Born
A BLESSING on thy head, thou child of many hopes and fears!
A rainbow-welcome thine hath been, of mingled smiles and tears.
Thy father greets thee unto life, with a full and chasten'd heart,
For a solemn gift from God thou com'st, all precious as thou art!
I see thee not asleep, fair boy, upon thy mother's breast,
Yet well I know how guarded there shall be thy rosy rest;
And how her soul with love, and prayer, and gladness, will o'erflow,
While bending o'er thy soft-seal'd eyes, thou dear one, well I know!
A blessing on thy gentle head! and bless'd thou art in truth,
For a home where God is felt, awaits thy childhood and thy youth:
Around thee pure and holy thoughts shall dwell as light and air,
And steal unto thine heart, and wake the germs now folded there.
Smile on thy mother! while she feels that unto her is given,
In that young day-spring glance the pledge of a soul to rear for heaven!
Smile! and sweet peace be o'er thy sleep, joy o'er thy wakening shed!
Blessings and blessings evermore, fair boy! upon thy head.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

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