Come, blessed Darkness, come and bring thy balm
For eyes grown weary of the garish Day!
Come with thy soft, slow steps, thy garments grey,
Thy veiling shadows, bearing in thy palm
The poppy-seeds of slumber, deep and calm!
Come with thy patient stars, whose far-off ray
Steals the hot fever of the soul away,
Thy stillness, sweeter than a chanted psalm!
O blessed Darkness, Day indeed is fair,
And Light is dear when Summer days are long,
And one by one the harvesters go by;
But so is rest sweet, and surcease from care,
And folded palms, and hush of evensong,
And all the unfathomed silence of the sky!