Anne Charlotte Lynch Botta

Evening Hymn

On the swift flying hours
  Another bright day,
With its tears and its smiles,
  Has vanished away.
Thou who dost number
  Our days as they flee,
May each that departs
  Bear us nearer to thee!

On the wide sea of life
  Soon our barks will be tost,
And the sweet ties that bind us
  Be broken and lost.
Father in Heaven,
  Be our guide to that shore,
Where night never cometh,
  Where partings are o'er.