FOLD your pale hands, O night, Pure nun who comes to pray For the departing day— Fold your pale hands. Tell o'er your beads— Dewdrops that where you pass Cluster upon the grass, Tell o'er your beads. Light your clear stars, Tapers whose holy fire Burns with a soul's desire— Light your clear stars. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIMON SURNAMED PETER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A CHRISTMAS FOLKSONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR CHRIST IN THE UNIVERSE by ALICE MEYNELL PROMETHEUS BOUND: PROMETHEUS by AESCHYLUS THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): EROS AND HIS MOTHER by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS |