As if the dark-robed angel had unfurled
His ebon pinions and, from off his wing,
Shook silence down upon a sleeping world;
Or the last sigh of the departing day,
Borne through the trees in one long-whispered “Hush!”
Had breathed o’er all a spirit of repose.
So may life’s sun, which at the dawn uprose
Resplendent in its ever-growing light,
In peaceful glory sink at evening’s close
Beyond the margin of death’s silent sea,