Who at the moon and stars can gaze
Without a gush of love and praise?
And now it is the midnight hour,
And sleep asserts her soothing power.

But see, the flickering light is gone,
That from my neighbour's window shone;
His simple household prayer is said,
He rests from toil, on his hard bed.

Yet still the watchman wakes, and still
Faithful till morning watch he will;
But vain, O watchman! is thy care,
If God, the Guardian, be not there.

By my dull lamp, whose light's near gone,
In my small room I sit alone,
And, thinking o'er past joys and pain,
A sweet contentment doth remain.

He's still my trust; he, the true Shepherd, never
Will forsake his sheep,--he watcheth ever;
The mother may forget her child, but yet
Thus saith the Lord,--"Thee I will not forget."

I rest in peace, I trust in Thee;
Thy faithful eye still watcheth me;
For He who ever wakes and lives
To loving hearts no night e'er gives.