After the burden and heat of the day, The starry calm of night; After the rough and toilsome way, A sleep in the robe of white. Oh, sweet is the slumber wherewith the King Hath caused the weary to rest! For, sleeping, they hear the angels sing, They lean on the Master's breast. Tarry with me, O my Saviour; Lay my head upon Thy breast Till the morning; then awake me— Morning of eternal rest.
Wisdom