Evening Hymn

O Lord of perfect purity,

Who dost the world with light adorn,

And paint the fields of azure sky

With lovely hues of eve and morn:

Upon our fainting souls distil

The grace of Thy celestial dew;

Let no fresh snare to sin beguile,

No former sin revive anew.

Keep Thou our souls from schemes of crime,

No guilt remorseful let them know;

Nor, thinking but on things of time,

Into eternal darkness go.

Teach us to knock at heav'ns high door,

Teach us the prize of life to win;

Teach us all evil to abhor,

And purify ourselves within.

Be Thou our guide, be Thou our goal,

Be Thou our pathway to the skies

Our joy when sorrow fills the soul,

In death our everlasting prize.