The Heart of a Woman and Other Poems/Eventide
EVENTIDE
The silence of the brooding night,
Enfolds me with its eerie light;
I lie upon its shadowed breast
A pilgrim, wearying for rest
Enfolds me with its eerie light;
I lie upon its shadowed breast
A pilgrim, wearying for rest
Nightfall! thy sable curtains steep
My very soul in solace deep,
God sends thee with thy soothing balms,
That I may falter to thy arms.
My very soul in solace deep,
God sends thee with thy soothing balms,
That I may falter to thy arms.