957. S. M. Conder. Saturday Evening.
1 The hours of evening close;
Its lengthened shadows, drawn
O'er scenes of earth, invite repose,
And wait the Sabbath dawn.
2 So let its calm prevail
O'er forms of outward care;
Nor thought for |many things| assail
The still retreat of prayer.
3 Our guardian Shepherd near
His watchful eye will keep;
And, safe from violence and fear,
Will fold his flock to sleep.
4 So may a holier light
Than earth's our spirits rouse,
And call us, strengthened by his might,
To pay the Lord our vows.