The day hath closed, the sun is low,
And weary hearts begin to sigh,
As gentle evening breezes blow,
And stars begin to light the sky.
And weary hearts begin to sigh,
As gentle evening breezes blow,
And stars begin to light the sky.
A quiet peace descends serene,
On fields and woods, on hill and dale,
A tranquil, soul-refreshing scene,
As nature's softest hymns prevail.
On fields and woods, on hill and dale,
A tranquil, soul-refreshing scene,
As nature's softest hymns prevail.