Our Day of Praise Is Done

1Our day of praise is done,
The evening shadows fall;
But pass not from us with the sun,
True Light that lightenest all.

2Around the throne on high,
Where night can never be,
The white-robed harpers of the sky
Bring ceaseless hymns to Thee.

3Too faint our anthems here;
Too soon of praise we tire;
But O, the strains how full and clear
Of that eternal choir!

4Yet, Lord, to Thy dear will
If Thou attune the heart,
We in Thine angels' music still
May bear our lower part.

5'Tis Thine each soul to calm,
Each wayward thought reclaim,
And make our broken songs of psalm
One seamless hymn of praise.