Now woods and wolds are sleeping

now woods and wolds are sleeping,
and darkness fast is creeping
o’er byre, hearth, and hall;
but thou, my soul, ere slumber,
for blessings passing number
exalt the giver of them all.

ye also, o my dearest,
my friends and kindred nearest,
god rest you safe from harm!
his angel hosts attend ye,
their golden shields defend ye,
from nightly danger and alarm.