When I was a little girl this poem hung on the wall of the room where I slept in our summer cottage. I learned it then and often go to sleep on it. A framed copy, illustrated by my brother Jim hangs now on my guest-room wall. I wish I knew the author.
Sleep sweetly in this quiet room,
0 thou, whoe’er thou art,
And let no mournful yesterdays
Disturb thy peaceful heart;
Nor let tomorrow scare thy rest
With thoughts of coming ill,
Thy Maker is thy changeless Friend,
His love surrounds thee still.
Forget thyself and all the world,
Put out each feverish light,
The stars are watching overhead—
Sleep sweetly, then. Good night.
**Excerpt originally published in the Jan/ Feb 1990 Elisabeth Elliot Newsletter.