In quiet hush of eventide
God hovers oh, so near.
When the "dust" of day recedes
His gentle voice I hear.
"The day is done, it's battles won.
Peace, My Child, be still.
Let your spirit rest in Me
And find sweet sleep until...
I bring another fresh new morn,
Sparkling softly with the dew...
My gift to you... of Son-lit day
When all is fresh and new.
In quiet now of eventide,
Hush, My Child, be still.
Let My angels watch o'er thee
And blessings o'er you spill."
© 2009 Arlene Schwartzkopf