This is the thanksgiving of the weary,
The song of him that is ready to rest.
It is good to be glad when the day is declining,
And the setting of the sun is like a word of peace.
The stars look kindly on the close of a journey,
The tent says welcome when the day's march is done.
For now is the time of the laying down of burdens,
And the cool hour cometh to them that have borne the heat.
I have rejoiced greatly in labour and adventure;
My heart hath been enlarged in the spending of my strength.
Now it is all gone, yet I am not impoverished,
For thus only I inherit the treasure of repose.
Blessed be the Lord that teacheth my fingers to loosen,
And cooleth my feet with water after the dust of the way.
Blessed be the Lord that giveth me hunger at nightfall,
And filleth my evening cup with the wine of good cheer.
Blessed be the Lord that maketh me happy to be quiet,
Even as a child that cometh softly to his mother's lap.
O God, thy strength is never worn away with labour:
But it is good for us to be weary and receive thy gift of rest.
