Some praise the Lord for Light,
        The living spark;
I thank God for the Night
        The healing dark.
When wearily I lie,
        With aching sight,
With what thanksgiving I
        Turn out the light!

When to night's drowsy deep
        Serene I sink,
How glad am I to sleep,
        To cease to think!
From care and fret set free,
        In sweet respite,
With joy I peacefully
        Turn out the light.

Lie down thou weary one,
        And sink to rest;
Nay, grieve not for the sun,
        The dark is best.
So greet with grateful breath
        Eternal Night,
When soft the hand of Death
        Turns out the light.