歌曲 | Night |
歌手 | Caprice |
专辑 | Songs Of Innocence And Experience |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
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's high bower, | |
With silent delight, | |
Sits and smiles on the night. | |
Farewell, green fields and happy groves, | |
Where flocks have took delight, | |
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves | |
The feet of angels bright; | |
Unseen, they pour blessing, | |
And joy without ceasing, | |
On each bud and blossom, | |
And each sleeping bosom. | |
They look in every thoughtless nest | |
Where birds are covered warm; | |
They visit caves of every beast, | |
To keep them all from harm: | |
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: | |
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 the gold, | |
As I guard o'er the fold |
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' s high bower, | |
With silent delight, | |
Sits and smiles on the night. | |
Farewell, green fields and happy groves, | |
Where flocks have took delight, | |
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves | |
The feet of angels bright | |
Unseen, they pour blessing, | |
And joy without ceasing, | |
On each bud and blossom, | |
And each sleeping bosom. | |
They look in every thoughtless nest | |
Where birds are covered warm | |
They visit caves of every beast, | |
To keep them all from harm: | |
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: | |
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 the gold, | |
As I guard o' er the fold |
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' s high bower, | |
With silent delight, | |
Sits and smiles on the night. | |
Farewell, green fields and happy groves, | |
Where flocks have took delight, | |
Where lambs have nibbled, silent moves | |
The feet of angels bright | |
Unseen, they pour blessing, | |
And joy without ceasing, | |
On each bud and blossom, | |
And each sleeping bosom. | |
They look in every thoughtless nest | |
Where birds are covered warm | |
They visit caves of every beast, | |
To keep them all from harm: | |
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: | |
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 the gold, | |
As I guard o' er the fold |