Eventide

BEN. HAWORTH-BOOTH.

See how the sunset rays of gleaming gold
Have lit their lamps on Israel's hills,
And soon a solemn silence fills
(As when we pray) the wood, the wave, the wold.

On comes the hour of nature's hush; 'tis night,
"The winter of our discontent;"
But all our hopes and prayers are bent
To know the truth and onward gain the light.

It is the night, but dazzling skies above
Are hung with gems, so wondrous fair,
And earth's enchanting roses wear
Such moonlit semblance to the works of Love!

In yon dark pool the stars of earth now gleam
As fair as those of heaven, and far
More easy-gained than those they are!
Thus may we see, things are not as they seem.

O lend thine aid! and guide and guard and save,
Unseen Interpreter divine,
Who turned life's water into wine,
Who conquered sin and self, and walked the wave.

And Thou who ever heard when Jesus prayed—
Who ever savest deaf and dead mankind,
The sick, the sorrowful, the blind—
To sin-bound, suffering souls, O lend thine aid!

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