Night! how I love thy silent shades, My spirits they compose; The bliss of heaven my soul pervades, In spite of all my woes. | While sleep instils her poppy dews In every slumbering eye, I watch to meditate and muse, In blest tranquillity. | And when I feel a God immense Familiarly impart, With every proof he can dispense, His favour to my heart; | My native meanness I lament, Though most divinely filled With all the ineffable content That Deity can yield. | His purpose and his course he keeps; Treads all my reasonings down; Commands me out of nature's deeps, And hides me in his own. | When in the dust, its proper place, Our pride of heart we lay; 'Tis then a deluge of his grace Bears all our sins away. | Thou whom I serve, and whose I am, Whose influence from on high Refines, and still refines my flame, And makes my fetters fly; | How wretched is the creature's state Who thwarts thy gracious power; Crushed under sin's enormous weight, Increasing every hour! | The night, when passed entire with thee, How luminous and clear! Then sleep has no delights for me, Lest thou should'st disappear. | My Saviour! occupy me still In this secure recess; Let reason slumber if she will, My joy shall not be less. | Let reason slumber out the night; But if thou deign to make My soul the abode of truth and light, Ah, keep my heart awake! | |