L. M.
S. S. Cutting.
Father, we bless the gentle care
That watches o’er us day by day,
That guards us from the tempter’s snare,
And guides us in the heavenward way:—
We bless Thee for the tender love
That mingles all our hearts in one,—
The music of the soul;—above
’Tis purer spirits’ unison.
Father, ’tis evening’s solemn hour,
And cast we now our cares on Thee;
Darkly the storm may round us lower,
Peace is within,—Christ makes us free;—
And when life’s toil and joy are o’er,
And evening gathers on its sky,
Our circle broke,—we sing no more,—
O, may we meet and sing on high.
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