God Gave Me the Lyrics to this Song, I Dictated it While Listening

 

Yea, we in Christ we live for, poor:—

The silver thread on Darkened doom—

With closing eyes and resting head

I hold and see His coming soon.

 

Upon my pillow

Safely’n hand

A thousand pictures fill my head.

I cannot sleep; my mind’s aflight,

And yet I receive Made-of-Flesh.

 

There are noises,

Sweet or not,—

Afright it shall

Flee tonight

When Christ our anchor.—

On to sleep,

And counts of joy deep,

If Sacrosanct our song.

 

What dreams they

Chart, North dark and deep

All flying Prince and soaring live;

As Christ the Lamb died to sin

As Christ the Lamb died to sin

As Christ the Lamb died (to) to sin.

 

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep Sheep.

Sleep.

Sleep Sweet.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.