Though like the wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone; Yet in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to Thee.
That which you bestow freely and willingly will bring you all the happy luck that a grateful universe knows how to return.
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower, Alike they're needed to the flower; And joys and tears alike are sent To give the soul its nourishment.
God I bring each wounded child to Thee.