WHEN the evening shadows fall, oftentimes do I recall other evenings,
far away, when, aweary of my play, I would climb on granny’s knee (long
since gone to sleep has she), clasp my hands and bow my head, while the
simple lines I said, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my
soul to keep.” Journeyed long have I since then, in this sad, gray world
of men; I have seen with aching heart, comrades to their rest depart;
friends have left me, one by one, for the shores beyond the sun. Still
the Youth enraptured sings, and the world with gladness rings, but the
faces I have known all are gone, and I’m alone. All alone, amid the
throng, I, who’ve lived and journeyed long. Loneliness and sighs and
tears are the wages of the years. Who would dread the journey’s end,
when he lives without a friend? Now the sun of life sinks low; in a
little while I’ll go where my friends and comrades wait for me by the
jasper gate. Though the way be cold and stark, I shall murmur, in the
dark, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”
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