When the twilight falls, and the shadows creep,
And the world turns soft in the evening glow;
I wander out where the willows weep,
And the river winds like a thread of slow.

The stars awake in the dusky sky,
And the moon spills silver on the sleeping lake;
I pause and listen, as night drifts by,
And the heart finds rest, as the world must take.

• Ruth Dallas