The sun descending in the west The evening star does shine The birds are silent in their nest And I must seek for mine The moon, like a flower In heaven high bower With silent delight Sits and smiles in the night Farewell, green fields and happy groves Where flocks have took delight Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves The feet of angels bright If they see any weeping That should have been sleeping They pour sleep on their head And sit down by their bed When wolves and tigers howl for prey They pitying stand and weep Seeking to drive their thirst away And keep them from the sheep But if they rush dreadful The angels, most heedful Receive each mild spirit New worlds to inherit And there the lion's ruddy eyes Shall flow with tears of gold And pitying the tender cries And walking round the fold Flowing, pitying and saying 'Wrath, by His meekness And, by His health, sickness Is driven away From our immortal day 'And now beside thee, bleating lamb I can lie down and sleep Or think on Him who bore thy name Graze after thee and weep For, washed in life's river My bright mane for ever Shall shine like gold As I guard o'er the fold'