Taps Horace Lorenzo Trim
Day is done, gone the sun, From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky, All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.
Fading light dims the sight, And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright, From afar, drawing near, Falls the night.
Thanks and praise for our days, Neath the sun, neath the stars, neath the sky, As we go, this we know, God is nigh.