1 God of the sunlight hours, how sad
Would evening shadows be,
Or night, in deeper sable clad—
If aught were dark to Thee!
2 How mournfully that golden gleam
Would touch the thoughtful heart,
If, with its soft, retiring beam
We saw Thy love depart.
3 But though the gathering gloom may hide
Those gentle rays awhile,
Yet they who in Thy house abide,
Shall ever share Thy smile.
4 Then let creation’s volume close,
Though every page be bright;
On Thine, still open, we repose
With more intense delight.