And when the light is fading fast,
and night begins her soft prelude;
Then shadows silently are cast,
to mark the time for solitude.
All by myself, yet not alone,
I listen to the surf sing on;
ancient hymns that soothe, atone,
from dark edged dusk to gilt edged dawn.
Nights trees are fervent in their chant,
each whispered prayer a faithful plea;
That light of day will surely grant,
with hope and faith, abundantly.
How great Thou art up in the skies,
to gift your earth such lullabyes?
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