Poems (Angier)/A Reverie

by Annie Lanman Angier

For works with similar titles, see A Reverie.

A REVERIE.

The day's long toil is over,
 And calmly sets the sun;
As a weary racer sinks to rest,
 When the longed-for goal is won.

The bee has forgot the clover,
 The butterfly the rose;
The bird has sought its downy nest,
 And found its sweet repose.

The twilight shadows softly creep
 O'er valley, stream, and hill;
While from yon verdant meadow steals
 The note of the whip-poor-will.

All hushed are childhood's voices—
 Or low like a murmuring stream—
Like melody at midnight heard,
 As it floats to the ear in dream:

While wafted on the perfumed air,
 Come songs of praise, and humble prayer—
Thus oft in earth's blooming summer bowers,
 Is fragrance borne from the drooping flowers.

Bright stars, like the eyes of angels,
 Look down from the azure sky;
Long silent lops once more unclose
 To say that the dead are nigh.

Hush! 'tis a holy, hallowed hour,
The sad heart owns its soothing power;
Faith's eye beholds heaven's shining wall,
And Faith's ear hears—"There's room for all."

Hark! to the silver bells that chime,
The music of that far-off clime;
While the soul looks forth from its calm retreat,
And smiles as it sees the two worlds meet.