Softly the silent night falleth from God,
On, weary wanderers, over life’s road;
And as the stars on high light up the dark’ning sky,
Lord, unto Thee we cry—Father above.

Softly on failing wing daylight has passed;
Sleep, like an angel, kind, folds us at last;
Peace be our lot this night, safe be our slumber light,
Watched by Thy angels bright, Father above.

And when the gleam of morn touches our eyes,
And the returning day bids us arise,
Happy beneath Thy will, steadfast in joy or ill,
Lord, may we serve Thee still, Father above.