When Day Is Done
If the day is done ,
If birds sing no more .
If the wind has fiagged tired ,
Then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me ,
Even as thou hast wrapt the earth with The coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed ,
The petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.
From the traverer,
Whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended ,
Whose garment is torn and dust-laden ,
Whose strength is exhausted,remove shame and poverty ,
And renew his life like a flower under
The cover of thy kindly night .
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.