Things, To Be Consider'D, And Made Use Of, When Night Comes Poem by Rees Prichard

Think, how thy life does steal away!
'Tis daily shorten'd by a day ;
And thou art now to death more near
By twelve months, than the former year.

Go not a single night to rest,
Ere thou hast sin cast from thy breast,
And thy accounts in order put,
Ere thou presum'st thy eyes to shut.

Let not the setting sun descend
Upon thy wrath, shou'd some offend:
'Tis better with a Bear to rest,
Than sleep with malice in thy breast.

Much greater risques each man attend
In bed, (if Christ be not his friend)
Than Daniel erst experienc'd, when
He lay within the lions' den.

The scriptures tell us, that the fiend
Does, day and night, our steps attend,
Like a fierce lion, ev'ry hour
Contriving whom he may devour.

Who does the lion's rage restrain
But Christ, the faithful Shepherd-swain,
That, day and night, untouch'd by sleep,
Doth from the fiend protect his sheep?

Full many go in health to bed,
Who in the morning are found dead,
And ne'er shall wake, until they come,
At the shrill trumpet's sound, to doom.

When thou hast toil'd and moil'd all day,
And night comes on, strive hard to pay
Thy ev'ning sacrifice apart,
With proper words and pious heart.

Welcome with pray'r each rising sun,
And end each day, as 'twas begun,
With pray'r its gates, each ev'ning, bar,
Unbar them, ev'ry morn, with pray'r.

God will his off'ring have at night,
As well as with the dawning light :
He, morn and eve, does praise expect -
His praise nor morn, nor eve, neglect.

Convene thy family each day,
And constantly your prayers say,
A Chapel make of thy abode,
And be thyself the man of God.

Upon thy knees devoutly pray,
And read the scriptures ev'ry day,
Thy children teach what to believe,
And thou shalt endless bliss receive.

On each day's work, reflect at night,
And put whate'er was wrong, to right :
If God thou'st vex'd, for pardon sue,
If thou'st had grace, his praises shew.

Ne'er go to sleep immers'd in vice,
Lest thou shou'dst so, to judgement, rise:
To close thy eye-lids be afraid,
'Till thou hast for forgiveness pray'd.

He, that presumes to go to rest,
Ere he from sin has clear'd his breast,
Does hazard more, than if a snake
He to his bed at night shou'd take.

Lest thou from sleep shou'dst to the bar
Be call'd, at midnight, to appear,
Go not abrupt, like one of those,
Who nothing mind, to thy repose.

When, to thy bed, thou turn'st thine eye,
Think on the grave, where thou must lie;
And, when thou lay'st thee down to sleep,
Thy latter end in mind still keep.

And, as thou takest off thy clothes,
All but thy shirt, to seek repose,
Think how thy all must be resign'd,
Besides thy shrowd, and left behind.

When Peter's monitor first crows,
And wakes thee from thy night's repose,
Reflect, ere thou dost quit thy bed,
How the last trump shall rouse the dead!