The poem
The long day passes with its load of sorrow: In slumber deep I lay me down to rest until tomorrow -- Thank God for sleep. Thank God for all respite from weary toiling, From cares that creep Across our lives like evil shadows, spoiling God's kindly sleep.
We plough and sow, and, as the hours grow later, We strive to reap, And build our barns, and hope to build them greater Before we sleep.
We toil and strain and strive with one another In hopes to heap Some greater share of profit than our brother Before we sleep.
What will it profit that with tears or laughter Our watch we keep? Beyond it all there lies the Great Hereafter! Thank God for sleep!
For, at the last, beseeching Christ to save us We turn with deep Heartfelt thanksgiving unto God, who gave us The Gift of Sleep.
This is a great poem for a memorial service, especially for someone who lived and worked in rural Australia. It has an engaging peacefulness and reminiscent of the honest toiler resting,at last, in peace. I shall read it publicly for my friend, Terry.