The Quiet Hour
When shadows drape the hills at dusk, In stillness deep, we find the husk. A gentle hush, the world slows down, In twilight’s peace, the heart may drown.
The stars unveil their silver eyes, And nightingale beneath the skies Sings lullabies to weary souls, While nature cradles, gently enfolds.
In every rustle, life’s breath sings, In harmony, the soft heart clings; As darkness swathes the woodland bowers, We find our truth in quiet hours.
- Philip Webb