A Summer Evening
How fine has the day been! how
bright was the sun!
How lovely and joyful the course that he run,
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain !
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best :
He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.
Just such is the Christian ; his
course he begins,
Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears ; the he breaks out and shines,
And travels his heavenly way :
But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace,
And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days,
Of rising in brighter array.
Isaac Watts
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