Текст оригинала на английском языке
O God, whose daylight leadeth down Into the sunless way, Who with restoring sleep dost crown The labour of the day! What I have done, Lord, make it clean With thy forgiveness dear; That so to-day what might have been, To-morrow may appear. And when my thought is all astray, Yet think thou on in me; That with the new-born innocent day My soul rise fresh and free. Nor let me wander all in vain Through dreams that mock and flee; But even in visions of the brain, Go wandering toward thee.
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