Her robes yet skirted with the sunset glimmer,
Into the twilight brown,
Into the twilight ever growing dimmer,
Calmly the world goes down.
Without a fear she seeth shut behind her
The iron gates of night;
The morning sun hath never failed to find her
And lead her forth to light.
And friendly is the darkness, grown thus wonted;
With night as well as day
Is the eternal covenant appointed;
In both she knows her way.
So in the solemn darkness of this hiding,
That seems so like a frown,
A planet which the sun unseen is guiding,
Calmly my soul goes down.
When, on the dreamer, angels without number
From the still skies look out,
The revelers cannot know how sweet the slumber
He draws the dark about.
Or if through grief a solitary waker
In faith's pale starry light,
None knows how precious unto God my Maker
My songs are in the night.
