MEDITATION.

1833.

When evening from the starry skies,

Its blessed dews doth send,

And all the landscape stilly lies,

Calm contemplation’s friend:

Oh, then when moonlight beams are shed,

And gales so quiet blow,

And when from heaven’s fountain-head

Such varied mercies flow;

Dear Saviour, bending at thy throne,

’Tis then my prayer I pour,

’Tis then my sorrows all I own,

And weep while I adore:

’Tis then I know the starry skies

Will listen to my prayer,

Accept my spirit’s sacrifice,

And charm away despair.