The hour when dark enfolds the night is mine You may have all the others, this I ask When shades may softly blend a new design And come upon the scene with twilight's masque. How quiet waters ride when meadows flood To spread their carven ripples, willow blest Where even shadows pause before they scud And run to meet the dusk with frightened zest. I love the hour when darkness holds the light With cooling hands that may be harsh or kind Then tenders all the earth a calm Good-Night. That space is mine and more as years unwind The hour when children's words are formed in prayer And listeners are silent and aware. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |