Breathing peace,
Breathing rest

Out of the gardens of Sleep in the West.

O come to me ... wandering

Wind of the West!

Gray Doves of slumber

Come hither to nest....

Ah, sweet now the fragrance

Below the dim trees
Of the White Rose of Rest

That blooms in the gardens of Sleep in the West.

On leaving Maniace W. S. wrote to Dr. Goodchild: