Day is far spent, the sha­dows length­en round us,
Bright shine the gates of sun­set on our sight;
Break one by one the ten­der ties that bound us,
Yet to our souls at ev­en­ing there is light.
Long tossed by waves, by tem­pests beat and broken,
Fair sleeps our port be­neath the sun­set blest;
Calmly we glide to realms of peace un­brok­en,
In that bright ha­ven of eter­nal rest.

Breezes of balm blow from those shores im­mor­tal;
Soft sleep the bil­lows in the ra­di­ance fair;
Angelic forms be­side each heav’n­ly por­tal
Wait to re­ceive, and bid us wel­come there.
No foe­man’s oar shall vex those pla­cid wa­ters,
No gal­lant ship shall ev­er pass there­by;
No part­ing friends, or weep­ing sons and daugh­ters,
Shall breathe their sighs be­neath that cloud­less day.

Hushed is the jar of earth’s dis­cord­ant nois­es;
Blest is the si­lence, ho­ly is the calm;
While from the shore sound pure im­mor­tal voic­es,
Chanting sweet snatch­es of an an­gel’s psalm.
Farewell to earth, its sor­rows and its glad­ness;
Its clouds and gloom are fad­ing from my sight;
Welcome the shores that know no tears or sad­ness,
The day de­clines; at ev­en­ing there is light!