Page:Forget Me Not (1828).djvu/164

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EVENING SONG, &c.
Come to the Sun-set Tree!
The day is past and gone;
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.

Yes; tuneful is the sound
That dwells in whispering boughs;
Welcome the freshness round,
And the gale that fans our brows.
 
But rest, more sweet and still
Than ever night-fall gave,
Our longing hearts shall fill,
In the world beyond the grave.
 
There shall no tempest blow,
No scorching noon-tide beat;
There shall be no more snow,
No weary wandering feet.
 
So we lift our trusting eyes,
From the hills our fathers trode,
To the quiet of the skies,
To the Sabbath of our God.
 
Come to the Sun-set Tree!
The day is past and gone;
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.

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