Even Song by Meta E. B. Thorne

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 7, 1908

Even Song

By Meta E. B. Thorne

ATHWART the weary world the evening shadows gather, As slowly down the west the sun is sinking low; Here at thy feet we lay our burdens down, O Father! Content that thy dear love our every care doth know.

For O, thou lookest, Lord, with such divine compassion— Such tender, pitying love—upon our sorest need; Thy mercy for our weakness and our sin, thy consolation, A healing balm for life's distress and woes, we plead.

Out from the world's confusion and discord we come, stealing Into the quietness of that serenest calm Found only in thy presence; and there in spirit kneeling, With grateful hearts upraised we breathe our evening psalm.

We thank thee for the day now in the twilight closing: Its blessings and its joys, aye, even for its care; And now at eventide in faith our souls reposing Ascend to thee, our Father, in grateful praise and prayer.

—Meta E. B. Thorne.