Vespers
The golden sun has gone, the busy day is done.
Twilight has come and with it peace draws near
To dwell an hour .within my garden walls, while in
The lambent sky the first pale stars appear.
The wheeling shadows that so slowly marked the hours
Have left no impress on the tender grass,
Nor does the air hold fast the patterns bold and free
That winging birds weave as the warm days pass.
The rued pool is stilled at last, and Lily buds
Prepare to open gently to the night
And to the questing moth whose fragile, gauzy wings
Quiver too rapidly for human sight.
In. this tranquility, touch, hearing, sight are lulled.
I am as selfless as the scented airs
That wrap me round, while daylight's drowsy flowers
Send out the fragrance of their vesper prayers.
-MARIE NETTLETON CARROLL
