"Rejoice," said the Night, "with moon and star,
For the Sun and the Wind are gone afar;
I am here with rest and dreaming choice!"
But man would not rejoice;
For he said—"What is rest to me, I pray,
Whose labour leads to no gladsome day?
He only can dream who has hope behind:
Alas for me and my kind!"
Then a voice that came not from moon or star,
From the sun, or the wind that roved afar,
Said, "Man, I am with thee—hear my voice!"
And man said, "I rejoice."
THE GRACE OF GRACE.
Had I the grace to win the grace
Of some old man in lore complete,
My face would worship at his face,
And I sit lowly at his feet.
Had I the grace to win the grace
Of childhood, loving shy, apart,
The child should find a nearer place,
And teach me resting on my heart.
Had I the grace to win the grace
Of maiden living all above,
My soul would trample down the base,
That she might have a man to love.
A grace I had no grace to win
Knocks now at my half open door:
Ah, Lord of glory, come thou in!—
Thy grace divine is all, and more.
ANTIPHON.
Daylight fades away.
Is the Lord at hand
In the shadows gray
Stealing on the land?