At Eventide— Fond Memory's gates I open wide And let my fancies backward roam Away to childhood's happy home, And kneel again at mother's side To say my prayers at Eventide.
At Eventide— When the shadows are creeping over the tide, My thoughts rush forth to a distant shore, To the lov'd ones, I shall see no more— Dear heaven! to think great seas divide Parents and children at Eventide.
At Eventide— My heart goes out to the "true and tried"— Friends whose faces have never worn Look of anger, or smile of scorn, Friends who have never like Judas, lied, Then kissed me in the Eventide.
At Eventide- Ghosts of dead hopes steal to my side, And I look back with tear-wet eyes To youth's lost opportunities— Those "might have beens" of morning tide; Impossibles at Eventide.
At Eventide— Sad at heart, and dissatisfied With labour done, and left undone; Sighing, I lay the burdens down, And yet, God knows how hard I tried, Though little I've done, at Eventide.
At Eventide— Weary with struggling 'gainst wind and tide, With hope departed, faith nigh dead, My earnest prayers unanswered, I question—"Brother, do not chide If God is just at Eventide."
At Eventide— Voices come from the other side— Echoes from the eternal spheres— Whispering to my earth worn ears: "Child of earth, whate'er betide, In Heaven there's light at Eventide!" Light? "Yes, light at Eventide!"
