Westward, you go, O gracious heavenly orb, at evening’s coming, setting; granting the day’s light to our earthly kin half a world away and calling that I trust that you on the ‘morrow will rise again.
In your parting comes darkness. So, I pray to You, O Maker, the Maker of all things:
O Lord, for those who hunger for respite’s hush, the rush and fever of the day’s efforts o’er, grant greatest comfort unto their breasts; that they, refreshed, the next day’s new light might greet.
O Lord, for those who labor whilst others rest, grant strength of purpose and surest safety through the dim-lit small hours; that they, with their best, shall obtain to share in grandest communal service.
O Lord, for those who under shadowy veil traverse the trail of evil’s spell, grant the Light of Your Goodness that, exposing the barren bleakness of their false fealty, reveals unto them the luster of Your Son’s Likeness; that they, in the soul’s clutch of repentance, may be free, their hands emptied of impious rites.
© 2021 PRA
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