EVENING SONG

When all the weary flowers,

Worn out with sunlit hours,

Droop o’ er the garden beds

Their little sleepy heads,

The dewy dusk on quiet wings comes stealing;

And, as the night descends,

The shadows troop like friends

To bring them healing.

So, weary of the light

Of life too full and bright,

We long for night to fall

To wrap us from it all;

Then death on dewy wings draws near and holds us,

And like a kind friend come

To children far from home,

With love enfolds us.

But when the night is done,

Fresh to the morning sun,

Their little faces yet

With night’ s sweet dewdrops wet,

The flowers awake to the new day’ s new graces;

And we, ah! shall we too

Turn to the daydawn new

Our tear-wet faces?