Эдит Несбит (Edith Nesbit)

Evening Song

WHEN all the weary flowers,
    Worn out with sunlit hours,
    Droop o'er the garden beds
    Their little sleepy heads,
The dewy dusk on quiet wings comes stealing;
    And, as the night descends,
    The shadows troop like friends
                To bring them healing.


    So, weary of the light
    Of life too full and bright,
    We long for night to fall
    To wrap us from it all;
Then death on dewy wings draws near and holds us,
    And like a kind friend come
    To children far from home,
                With love enfolds us.


    But when the night is done,
    Fresh to the morning sun,
    Their little faces yet
    With night's sweet dewdrops wet,
The flowers awake to the new day's new graces;
    And we, ah! shall we too
    Turn to the daydawn new
                Our tear-wet faces?

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