MIDNIGHT

The air is dark and fragrant

With memories of a shower,

And sanctified with stillness

By this most holy hour.

The leaves forget to whisper

Of soft and secret things,

And every bird is silent,

With folded eyes and wings.

O blessed hour of midnight,

Of sleep and of release,

Thou yieldest to the toiler

The wages of thy peace.

And I, who have not laboured,

Nor borne the heat of noon,

Receive thy tranquil quiet —

An undeserved boon.

Yes, truly God is gracious,

Who makes His sun to shine

Upon the good and evil,

And idle lives like mine.

Upon the just and unjust

He sends His rain to fall,

And gives this hour of blessing

Freely alike to all.