They come, from those celestial hills descending,
Sent by the bounteous Ruler of the skies;
We feel their presence with our spirits blending,
When evening orisons to heaven arise.
They come, when o’er the sorrowing heart is stealing
The wasting blight of earth’s consuming wo;
They come, a ray of heavenly light revealing,
Amidst the darkness of our path below.
They come to dry the mourner’s fount of sadness,
To pour their blessings on the drooping head;