A SHEPHERD piping, herald¹ of the Night Who comes with Silence up the coloured vale, Treading low gently, clad in greyish white, Poignantly² piping, sound your reedy wail³！ For Day departed moves in funeral train Tended by Twilight⁴ and, in deepest rose, The splendid Sunset melts beneath the main While sweet the Sea-wind with cool softness blows. As when a mother gathers to her breast The child who frets⁵ for Dad's remembered smart, Now Light fades quickly in the ashen⁶ west, And Night-Peace falls across my troubled heart.

    Flutes⁷, for the night through let my mind be still, And God keep safe with Him my stubborn will！