Eventide

How stately in its golden glow
The sun sinks 'neath the western hill
It gave what it had to bestow
Obedient to its Maker's will;
Its face still beams forth rays of light
Bidding us all a peaceful night,
Yet while we see its face no more
It shines upon another shore.

So be it at the passing knell
With my life's task complete on earth
That it may be a glad farewell
Yet not a finish, but new birth;
A step across the border line
To serve God in higher sphere
With happy thoughts this life of mined
Was not in vain while toiling here.