David William Paley
From far beyond the waving corn,
In the calm of gathering gloom,
Comes the quiet breath of peace
As day renounces power;
And the notes of distant bells
Soar from far off steeples
On the tips of lightest wings
As they toll the waning hour.
From towers high to hamlet low,
Come faintly through the meadows
Over all the woods and fields,
Whispers on the wafting zephyrs
To which the mind now yields;
And, in those tones of tinkling silver,
My soul is gently borne
On softly sighing music
That plays until the dawn.
Come, night, in folds of grey
That float about your form;
And rise from far off waves
To walk the warmth of sand.
Wrap your garment round me
And bring again the welcome rest
That all my power then enslaves
In sleep upon the land.
Now, the time sinks softly
And twilight crowds the sky
As the Sandman bids the watchman
To sound the shadowed veil
That settles round the light.
A reign gives up dominion
And the river slows its pace
To pass the sceptre to another
Who holds domain throughout the night.
Reeds close over waters
To hide the creatures held within;
Breezes murmur through the leaves
That tremble as the sun now passes.
Flowers fold their petals up
As silence wraps them round
Held in gossamer dreams
By a love that never closes.
Within protective darkness
Beneath the evening star,
I bathe myself in moonlight
And send my thoughts afar.
For, what is merely lack of sight
Is awash with words unspoken
In search of deeds, more fit to plight
The bonds of steel that stay unbroken.
Bring contentment with the rosy grace
That weary day now melts to rest
And we shall seek our close embrace
Until the light is brightly dawning.
For, love has felt the shining sun
Bid brief farewell in flight
Until we rise from the tomb of night
To the resurrection of the morning.