by George Stewart (from A Face to the Sky)
Weary with the dust and doings of the day,
We seek Thy favor in the healing of the night.
As homing birds our thoughts come back to Thee at eventide,
Even as little children seek their father's house.
From market, traffic, and all busy service of waking hours
We bring our labor, our hopes, and homes to be cleansed
In the shadow of Thy presence.
Helpless, when we could have been empowered of Thee,
We have turned aside from Thy will.
Restore within us a saving sense of our sin
And grant us forgiveness for false words and slighted work.
Thou Who givest to Thy beloved sleep,
Mend in the quiet of the night
The threadbare garment of our spirit
That on the morrow men wmay call us friend
And know no danger to their faith.
As pinions of night spread over land and sea
Come to us with healing in Thy wings
And we shall be changed
Into newness of life.
Amen.
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