WHEN ROOKS FLY HOMEWARD

By Joseph Campbell

When rooks fly homeward

And shadows fall,

When roses fold

On the hay-yard wall,

When blind moths flutter

By door and tree,

Then comes the quiet

Of Christ to me.

When stars look out

On the Children's Path

And grey mists gather

On carn and rath,

When night is one

With the brooding sea,

Then comes the quiet

Of Christ to me.