1 Another fleeting day is gone;
Slow o'er the west the shadows rise;
Swift the soft-stealing hours have flown,
And night's dark mantle vails the skies.

Chorus:
Peacefully rest,
Sleep till that morning,
Peacefully rest.

2 Another fleeting day is gone:
In solemn silence rest, my soul!
Bow down before His awful throne,
Who bids the morn and evening roll.

3 Soon shall a darker night descend,
And vail from me yon azure skies:
And soon shall death's oppressive hand
Lie heavy on these languid eyes.

4 Yet when beneath the dreadful shade,
I lay my weary frame to rest,
That night shall not make me afraid;
That bed the dying Saviour pressed.

5 Again emerging from the night,
I, like my risen Lord shall rise;
Again drink in the morning light,
Pure at its fount above the skies.