by: Robert Hugh Benson
- ie still, my soul, the Sun of Grace
- Is warm within this garden space
- Beneath tall kindly trees.
- The quiet light is green and fair;
- A fragrance fills the swooning air;
- Lie still, and take thine ease.
- This silent noon of Jesu's love
- Is warm about thee and above --
- A tender Lord is He.
- Lie still an hour -- this place is His.
- He has a thousand pleasaunces,
- And each all fair and fragrant is,
- And each is all for thee.
- Then, Jesu, for a little space
- I rest me in this garden place,
- All sweet to scent and sight.
- Here, from this high-road scarce withdrawn,
- I thrust my hot hands in the lawn
- Cool yet with dew of far-off dawn
- And saturate with light.
- But ah, dear Saviour, human-wise,
- I yearn to pierce all mysteries,
- To catch Thine Hands, and see Thine Eyes
- When evening sounds begin.
- There, in Thy white Robe, Thou wilt wait
- At dusk beside some orchard gate,
- And smile to see me come so late,
- And, smiling, call me in.
MORE POEMS BY ROBERT HUGH BENSON
|"A Halt" is reprinted from Poems. Robert Hugh Benson. New York: P.J. Kenedy
& Sons, 1914.