Night Lyrics

Song	Night
Artist	Caprice
Album	Songs Of Innocence And Experience
Download	Image LRC TXT

	The sun descending in the West,
	The evening star does shine;
	The birds are silent in their nest,
	And I must seek for mine.
	The moon, like a flower
	In heaven's high bower,
	With silent delight,
	Sits and smiles on the night.
	Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
	Where flocks have took delight,
	Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
	The feet of angels bright;
	Unseen, they pour blessing,
	And joy without ceasing,
	On each bud and blossom,
	And each sleeping bosom.
	They look in every thoughtless nest
	Where birds are covered warm;
	They visit caves of every beast,
	To keep them all from harm:
	If they see any weeping
	That should have been sleeping,
	They pour sleep on their head,
	And sit down by their bed.
	When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
	They pitying stand and weep;
	Seeking to drive their thirst away,
	And keep them from the sheep.
	But, if they rush dreadful,
	The angels, most heedful,
	Receive each mild spirit,
	New worlds to inherit.
	And there the lion's ruddy eyes
	Shall flow with tears of gold:
	And pitying the tender cries,
	And walking round the fold:
	Saying: 'Wrath by His meekness,
	And, by His health, sickness,
	Is driven away
	From our immortal day.
	'And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
	I can lie down and sleep,
	Or think on Him who bore thy name,
	Graze after thee, and weep.
	For, washed in life's river,
	My bright mane for ever
	Shall shine like the gold,
	As I guard o'er the fold

	The sun descending in the West,
	The evening star does shine
	The birds are silent in their nest,
	And I must seek for mine.
	The moon, like a flower
	In heaven' s high bower,
	With silent delight,
	Sits and smiles on the night.
	Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
	Where flocks have took delight,
	Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
	The feet of angels bright
	Unseen, they pour blessing,
	And joy without ceasing,
	On each bud and blossom,
	And each sleeping bosom.
	They look in every thoughtless nest
	Where birds are covered warm
	They visit caves of every beast,
	To keep them all from harm:
	If they see any weeping
	That should have been sleeping,
	They pour sleep on their head,
	And sit down by their bed.
	When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
	They pitying stand and weep
	Seeking to drive their thirst away,
	And keep them from the sheep.
	But, if they rush dreadful,
	The angels, most heedful,
	Receive each mild spirit,
	New worlds to inherit.
	And there the lion' s ruddy eyes
	Shall flow with tears of gold:
	And pitying the tender cries,
	And walking round the fold:
	Saying: ' Wrath by His meekness,
	And, by His health, sickness,
	Is driven away
	From our immortal day.
	' And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
	I can lie down and sleep,
	Or think on Him who bore thy name,
	Graze after thee, and weep.
	For, washed in life' s river,
	My bright mane for ever
	Shall shine like the gold,
	As I guard o' er the fold

	The sun descending in the West,
	The evening star does shine
	The birds are silent in their nest,
	And I must seek for mine.
	The moon, like a flower
	In heaven' s high bower,
	With silent delight,
	Sits and smiles on the night.
	Farewell, green fields and happy groves,
	Where flocks have took delight,
	Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves
	The feet of angels bright
	Unseen, they pour blessing,
	And joy without ceasing,
	On each bud and blossom,
	And each sleeping bosom.
	They look in every thoughtless nest
	Where birds are covered warm
	They visit caves of every beast,
	To keep them all from harm:
	If they see any weeping
	That should have been sleeping,
	They pour sleep on their head,
	And sit down by their bed.
	When wolves and tigers howl for prey,
	They pitying stand and weep
	Seeking to drive their thirst away,
	And keep them from the sheep.
	But, if they rush dreadful,
	The angels, most heedful,
	Receive each mild spirit,
	New worlds to inherit.
	And there the lion' s ruddy eyes
	Shall flow with tears of gold:
	And pitying the tender cries,
	And walking round the fold:
	Saying: ' Wrath by His meekness,
	And, by His health, sickness,
	Is driven away
	From our immortal day.
	' And now beside thee, bleating lamb,
	I can lie down and sleep,
	Or think on Him who bore thy name,
	Graze after thee, and weep.
	For, washed in life' s river,
	My bright mane for ever
	Shall shine like the gold,
	As I guard o' er the fold

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