SHE COMES NOT WHEN NOON IS ON THE ROSES

by: Herbert Trench (1865-1923)

HE comes not when Noon is on the roses--

Too bright is Day.

She comes not to the Soul till it reposes

From work and play.

 

But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices

Roll in from Sea,

By starlight and by candlelight and dreamlight

She comes to me.

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