Stell euch die goldnen Waffen
Ums Bett, und seiner Helden Schaar.
[Evening Hymn.]
Hide me under the Shadow of Thy Wings.
Ps. xvii. 8.
Now hushed are woods and waters,
At rest toil’s sons and daughters,
The world aslumber lies;
But thou, my Soul, awake thee,
To prayer and song betake thee,
And bid their grateful incense rise.