1 The duteous day now closeth, each flower and tree reposeth, shade creeps o’er wild and wood; let us, as night is falling, on God our Maker calling, give thanks to Him, the Giver good. 2 Now all the heavenly splendor breaks forth in starlight tender from myriad worlds unknown; and man, the marvel seeing, forgets his selfish being, for joy of beauty not his own. 3 His care he drowneth yonder, lost in the abyss of wonder; to heaven his soul doth steal; this life he disesteemeth, the day it is that dreameth, that doth from truth his vision seal. 4 Awhile his mortal blindness may miss God’s loving-kindness and grope in faithless strife; but when life’s day is over shall death’s fair night discover the fields of everlasting life.