When sleep and childish weariness
Upon her eyelids pressed,
She said but half her simple prayer,
And then “God knows the rest,”
And laid adown her little head
In slumber sweet and blest.
And doth God care for many words,
With repetitions dry,
Or hearts submissive to His will,
His name to glorify?
O little child ! He knows our needs
Better than thou or I
Our daily bread—His sheltering care
Howe’er He deemeth best—
If bitter this, or dark that way,
We bow to his behest,
And lay us down to sleep at last,
Trusting “God knows the rest.”