Though like the wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I'd be
Nearer, my God, to Thee.
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needed to the flower;
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul its nourishment.
That which you bestow freely and willingly will bring you all the happy luck that a grateful universe knows how to return.
God I bring each wounded child to Thee.
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