The sun de­clines; o’er land and sea creeps on the night;
The twink­ling stars come one by one to shed their light;
With Thee there is no dark­ness, Lord; with us ab­ide,
And ’neath Thy wings we rest se­cure this ev­en­tide.

Forgive the wrong this day we’ve done, or thought, or said;
Each mo­ment with its good or ill to Thee has fled;
O Fa­ther, in Thy mer­cy great will we con­fide;
Thy be­ne­dict­ion now be­stow this ev­en­tide.