Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep,
And time seems then not for to fly, but creep;
Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she
Had broke her wheel.
So 'tis with me, who listening pray
The winds to blow the tedious night away.
Sick is my heart! O Saviour! do Thou please
To make my bed soft in my sicknesses:
Lighten my candle, so that I beneath
Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death;
Let me Thy voice betimes i' th' morning hear:
Call, and I'll come; say Thou the when, and where.
 ... 

In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

 ... 

When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

 ... 

When, God knows, I'm tost about
Either with despair, or doubt;
Yet, before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

Unto the East we turn, with watchful eyes,
     Where opens the white haze of silvery lawn,
     And the still trees stand in the streak of dawn,
Until the Sun of Righteousness shall rise,
And far behind shall open all the skies,
     And golden clouds of Angels be withdrawn
     Around His presence. Then there shall be gone,
Fleeing before His face in dread surprise,
     The Heaven and Earth and the affrighted Sea,
 ... .
Like nightly travellers to the kindling sky,
     Awake or sleeping to yon eastern side
     We turn, and know not when the time shall be.