Evening Hymn


by Matthias Claudius (1740-1805)

translated from the German

The lofting moon is low,

Golden stars aglow

Shine so bright and clear;

The wood is black and still,

From meadows’ miracle

White rising mists appear.

In shadows’ peaceful shade –

The mantle dusk has made –

Earth is softly draped;

As in a safe bedchamber

Away from grief and danger

With eyes closed we escape.

The young moon in ascent

May seem to be a crescent

And yet she’s round and sleek;

And so the wonderful

We think most laughable

Because our human sight is weak.

Arrogant poor fools

Who think their thoughts are jewels

Have everything to learn;

Crafty, we can spin

Illusion out of wind,

And honest true fulfillment spurn.

Grant us, God, salvation,

Save us from delusion

Let us not be vain;

Save us from our pride,

Falsehood be denied,

Let us Your happy lambs remain.

When time of death’s at hand

May all before You stand

Untroubled and at peace;

And when you call us from

This life to Kingdom come,

Dear Lord, may all our sorrows cease.

Now lay us down, my brothers

In God’s name and no other,

The evening wind is chill;

Lord, reckoning relent,

Bless slumber with content,

And also every neighbor who is ill.

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